


Skies Above, Wings Below

by AviDragonLady



Category: N/A - Fandom
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Arranged Marriage, Drow, Elves, Eunuch, F/M, Genderbending, Genderfuck, Half-orc, M/M, Mild Blood, Mpreg, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Original Character Death(s), Original Fiction, Original Mythology, Original Universe, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 10:33:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 67
Words: 88,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14330583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AviDragonLady/pseuds/AviDragonLady
Summary: The Elder must save her species from being caught in the Great Collapse. One of her obstacles is that she was Chosen as Elder at the tender age of eighteen. The Council doesn't know when it will happen, precisely. All anybody knows is, Kaia will fall during her reign. Can she get everyone to safety, and where will they go? The Crystal-Born are as light-sensitive as the Drow and Duergar!This story has WoW, D&D, and Gargoyles as influences, with my friend's archipelago thrown in for spice.





	1. Chapter 1

Kaia no longer remembered its name. It was ancient. But the Oracles had sworn to remember for it. They listened to its stories; whether memories or fanciful tales, no one knew anymore. They tended its gardens, and nurtured the crystals that Skyfolk thought to be magic. Oracles were vital to Kaia’s survival, thus they were vital to the survival of everyone Below.  
   But the Council did not know the truth. They thought the Oracles, to whom the Crystals spoke exclusively, believed themselves to be above their station. They did not know why the Crystals would not speak to them.  
   They also could not comprehend why the Oracles restricted their actions so tightly within the Wall. What harm could come from a hearth? Why must their food be cooked outside the Wall?  
   When asked about a particular restriction, an Oracle would simply say that the Crystals would fail if they allowed it.  
   It was the truth, of course. You see, an Oracle could not tell a single falsehood.  
   If anything disturbed the delicate network of crystals, or the ground upon which they grew, all would fade, and eventually shatter. The crystals that adorned the houses required replacing every few years, for that very reason.  
   Elder Danath thought of these things on her three hundredth birthday. Her wide, almond-shaped eyes flickered deepest obsidian in the azure scales of her lined face. Her tattered wings twitched restlessly with her thoughts. Her tail, adorned with heavy gold circlets, dragged wearily along the floor as she paced.  
   Her mate, Elder Pyries, watched her agitated movements with characteristic stoicism. She was always the steadier of the two, though Danath was the more decisive.  
   Danath did not understand why Pyries was so quiet. She knew what today was.  
   Today they would join with Kaia. Their bodies would be interred within its central chamber, forever one with the Great Tantalus. The Oracles would have access to their memories for centuries to come, Kaia willing.  
   In other words, today, the day of her birth, was also the day of her death.  
   It was always so, from the time of their Landing. Each Elder, indeed every Crystal-Born that gave its life to Kaia, viewed this day differently.  
   Pyries was a decade younger, which often gave Danath twinges of guilt, but she never begrudged her mate a mere eleven years.  
   “What is that, but a drop in the well of years?” she would say philosophically.  
   Danath envied her ideology, even as she cursed it. After all, because they were a mated pair, they would die on the same day.  
   A knock at the door rooted Danath to the soft floor of their private apartment. It was Pyries who called for the person on the other side to enter.  
   All the eunuch said was “It is time.”  
   Inside, Danath railed at Kaia for asking such a high price for her service. Outwardly, she was calm as she followed the nameless servant out of the Elder Quarters. Pyries glided soundlessly behind her; her presence the only thing keeping Danath from bolting for the dubious freedom of the Wild Zone.  
   Down through the Wall they went, elegantly attired as though for a gala, claws tapping on the stone stairs toward the cliffs. The narrow ledge curved around the grey mountainside, until they reached the Point. Waves crashed ominously below them.  
   Here, they were each handed a goblet by the pale, stone-faced eunuch. They knew what it was, but it was their duty to drink of it. Quite romantically, they twined their arms before drinking deeply of the dark blue liquid. Danath glared at the cliff face one last time.  
   And then, they fell in two brightly-colored heaps at the eunuch’s feet. They were ready to join Kaia.


	2. Plots and Schemes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The residents of the Cavern wait for the new Elder to be Chosen. One priest doesn't think it will happen, at all.

Life went on in Tantalus Cavern, sometimes called Crystalsong Cavern by the Skyfolk. Everyone heard the Crystals humming. Most knew what it meant: The Elders were gone, and a new one must be Chosen. Those who were not of Crystal-Born descent knew that they would never achieve that rank, so they plodded onward.  
   Those who were looked to one another in speculation. Most often, a Trueblood Crystal-Born was Chosen. Rarely, a half-blood would sit on the Crystal Throne.  
   The Captain of the Sovereign Guard patrolled the city inside the Wall, for she had no authority outside it. Besides, there were no Crystals outside the Wall that could Choose a new Elder. She was on the lookout for that personage as she strode the length and breadth of the Cavern.  
   There were no streets, per se, aside from the wide thoroughfare from the Gate to the Elder's Quarters. She skirted houses, storefronts, and temples, watching the people she passed. Her eyes skipped over elves, gnomes, humans, and the like. They would not be Chosen.  
   She stopped to help a farmer right his fallen sled, the only mode of transportation allowed in the Cavern on this side of the Wall.  
   "Are you alright? Is the sled low on power, or did it tip over?"  
   The farmer waved away her concerns. "I'm fine, and so's the sled. Might've put the goods on it a bit off-balance, is all. Finicky things, these sleds. They go where ye tell 'em to, an' that's grand, but they kin be a touch wobbly."  
   She smiled at the little man; dwarf, she'd guess. "Yes, they can. Down here, one never knows how magic will work, eh?"  
   The farmer harrumphed. "Wouldnae know. My kind don't usually mess around wi' magic. But since it's a magicky sled or nuthin, ye take what ye kin get, yeah?"  
   "Right you are," she said. One of the greens that had fallen from the cart vanished, but the farmer didn't notice. The Captain just smiled, and continued on her way.  
   She had the misfortune of running into Krakk Greywing, Bishop of the Sky Temple, near the Gate. The cranky old avian always rubbed her the wrong way, though she couldn't pinpoint why.  
   " _Nyaak!_ Greetings, Guard Lyeesha. How goes the search?" His beady little eyes bored into hers, beak clacking anxiously.  
   She tilted away from him as subtly as she could. The incense his temple used always made her eyes water.  
   "It is Captain Lyesha, Bishop. If we must use your proper title, so must you use ours."  
   Her disdain was barely contained. Fortunately, the Bishop never made the effort to understand her, or her people, so it went unremarked.  
   " _Nyaak!_ Of course, deepest apologies, Captain Lyeesha. How goes the search?"  
   She let the mispronunciation slip. Perhaps he could not wrap his birdlike tongue around Crystal-Born names.  
   "I am certain that the new Elder will be found," she said confidently.  
   "Yes, _nyaak!_ Of course they will, lad." He patted her shoulder with one gnarled, clawed hand and shuffled away. His beaded wings rattled with every slow, laborious step.  
    _But not without that signet ring, I think,_ the old man cackled to himself. _No, you will search in vain, little man. There will be no new Elder, and the Council will rule in their stead._  
   He had to fight the urge to dance in the streets. The high and mighty Elders were gone, and without their ring of power, a new one could not rise up to challenge the Council.  
    _Now to get those silly term limits removed,_ he thought. _Only then will my plan be complete. Decades I've waited, but it will be worth it. There is no avian on the Council; indeed, none in the Cavern, save me. They will think me unbiased; perfect to lead those featherbrains._  
   The Bishop had done unscrupulous things in his quest for power. He could not kill, by his god's decree, but he'd done worse. When his own people cast him out, he could have hidden underground. Instead, he'd chosen to rule the underground!  
   A low cackle bounced hollowly off the nearest Crystal. He'd already won, they just didn't know it yet.


	3. The New Elder Emerges

Ealishe was on official business, or so she told herself. There were rumors that the Council wanted to cease these Searches for Oracles. The Council was not entirely Crystal-Born. The foolish Skyfolk did not know how vital Oracles were. All they saw were the restrictions they placed on life within the Wall.  
    _If they dislike it so much, why don't they move their fancy houses outside the Wall?_ she thought acidly. _Or better yet, go back to the skies they worship?_  
   She kicked a pebble, but not hard enough to strike the Wall. She had great respect for Kaia, and even a single pebble might upset it. Within the Wall, balance was everything. She knew this. Other Crystal-Born know this. Even the Deep Elves and Sky Elves understood. Of course, the Fey understood.  
   The gnomes, dwarves, humans, catkin, halflings, and the myriad other races too few to merit seats on the Council chafed at the restrictions. They complained endlessly about things like food never being hot when it reached their tables.  
   The Feyfolk simply ate raw foods, or made stews in heavy cauldrons that retained heat adequately. They baked bread. They used magic to heat their food. Feyfolk were nothing if not resourceful.  
   The Deep Dwarves simply lived out in the Wild Zone, where they had near autonomy. After all, they were there before even the Crystal-Born arrived. By and large, they left the Tantalus Cavern folk alone.  
   The younger races were too impatient and spoiled, in her opinion. _We didn't even have to let them inside the Wall to begin with,_ she thought perhaps a bit spitefully.  
   Ealishe was only eighteen, with precisely two hundred eighty two years ahead of her to mature. She took advantage of her youth at every chance, acting on impulses that she would ignore as she became "old and boring". She was certain of it, because her mother was eighty three, and quite stuffy. She was on her third spouse, as of next week, and all but one were Cavernfolk.  
   She righted a lopsided Crystal, wondering what her mother saw in Skyfolk. She paused, claws tapping the Crystal thoughtfully, pondering the mysteries of adult life.  
   That was when the Crystal decided her fate.  
   An electric shock sizzled up her arm, and across her shoulders before sparking down her tail. She tried to remove her hand, but it was fused to the Crystal. Bright light seared her eyes. She threw her other arm over her eyes, but the light burned from the inside out.  
   She screamed, as you'd expect. People came running, also as expected. Fortunately, one of the first responders was an Oracle. He knew what to do.  
    _"Back!"_ he bellowed. His large forearms flexed against the crowd of well-meaning, concerned people.  
   "If you touch that girl, you will _kill_ her!" he roared.  
   That stopped them in their tracks. It wasn't the words alone, but the blazing yellow eyes. They did not make the half orc, half Crystal-Born more intimidating to the motley crowd, as an outsider would presume.  
   No, those glowing eyes marked him an Oracle, and everyone knew that they could not tell a falsehood of any kind. If he said she would die if they interfered, they believed him.  
   The monk at the edge of the crowd watched avidly. He had heard tales of what he was seeing, but to actually witness it was rarer than a dozen eclipses. The poor girl's back arched, in obvious agony, but not a soul moved to aid her.  
   Then a most peculiar thing happened. The scaly skin beneath her tunic rippled, rose in twin peaks between her shoulderblades. With a deceptively quiet _snick_ , the fabric tore open enough to reveal two tiny, presumably vestigial wings.  
   The crowd gasped.  
   The girl dropped, into the waiting arms of the Oracle. He did not lunge toward her until her clawed fingers slipped nervelessly from the smooth surface of the Crystal. Only then did he dare make contact.  
   The humming, which the monk had only just identified as the Crystal itself, ceased the instant her scaly palm parted from its sharp perfection.  
   The crowd shifted restlessly about the pair on the ground, unwilling even now to touch the girl. It was obviously safe, but the wings marked her as untouchable for an entirely different reason.  
   Ealishe, only eighteen years old, was their new Elder.


	4. A Startling Event

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elders are never Oracles, and Oracles are never Elders. Or are they..?

Gromm tucked the small, as yet fragile wings against his broad chest before picking up the wilted Crystal-Born child.  
_Nay, she's a woman now, like it or not,_ he thought with a touch of sadness. He knew well the geas thrust upon her, and did not envy it. Not for a thousand marks would he trade places with this slip of a girl.  
   The crowd parted before the hulking Oracle, in reverence rather than fear. He marveled for perhaps the thousandth time that it was so. Tantalus Cavern was far different from Above. There, he would be feared and reviled because of his orc lineage, half or whole. Here, because he Heard the words of the Crystals, he was treated with respect. His mother, full orc though she was, had their respect by proxy.  
   The tall, lithe body was lighter than one would expect, but what she represented made her a heavy burden indeed. He felt many eyes upon them as he carried her up the wide causeway toward the Elder Quarters.  
   They were met by one of the House Eunuchs. Since his former patrons had joined Kaia that very morning, and one of his brethren was even now preparing their bodies for interment, he was expecting them. One would never know how long he'd been waiting, for the eunuchs were patient unto death.  
   One long arm gestured onward before disappearing once more. He walked ahead of the taller man, arms folded within his sleeves, much like an ascetic monk. His bald, mahogany head was the only skin that showed, being swathed from neck to knee in dark, heavy muslin.  
   Gromm was not intimidated by his silence. Not much intimidated a man who was well over seven feet tall and covered in blue-gray scales. His plantigrade, clawed feet were bare by necessity, and his tail was shorter and thicker than a full-blooded Crystal-Born. His horns were shorter than a Trueblood as well, but far more menacing with their rough spiral shape.  
   His eyes were smaller than a Crystal-Born, larger than an orc’s. A thin brown ring around his wide pupils meant that should the need arise, he could walk Above without going blind. This was a valuable trait in the Caverns, for no one knew when the Great Collapse would occur.  
   The dark, silent man waved him into an oddly-shaped room, with a large bed atop a low mound, to one side of the chamber. He lay the girl on it, taking utmost care with her fragile wings. The last Oracle to deliver their Elder was not so careful, so she was never able to fly. Gromm would not have it said, generations later, that he was so careless with _his_ Elder.  
   He turned to leave, but a chair was firmly set behind him. He sighed with resignation and lowered his considerable bulk into the backless, spiral-legged contraption so common here. They said that it distributed one's weight more evenly, but it looked far too fragile to hold him. He always sat carefully, afraid that this time, it would shatter. The floor was soft, but he did not fancy looking the fool before his new Elder. As always, the chair stood firm.  
   The eunuch remained in the room, a shadow in the corner. He understood, of course. Oracle or not, he was still a male around her age, or so he presumed. He was never good at judging the ages of Trueblood Crystal-born, though he could determine their genders correctly.  
   Most Skyfolk could not easily discern their genders, and often assumed one way or the other. Though only half-blooded, Gromm strongly suspected that it was not so… binary. He'd met couples that Skyfolk assumed to be a male and a female, but were actually both the same gender; yet one was able to give birth. In fact, his cousin Geralt was the product of a same-sex couple.  
   Sure, outsiders could claim that they'd used the Brood Palace to acquire children, but that was only because they had not seen a pregnant male before. Simply because he _appeared_ to be female, they assumed him to be.  
  _Just like they assume that Aunt Muray is a man,_ he thought wryly. His lip curled briefly, before lip strict discipline smoothed his features without thought.  
   Looking at the very feminine lass in the very large bed, he thought irreverently that no one would mistake _her_ for a male. He tried very hard not to think about why the bed was so large. He pictured goblins, minotaurs, elves--anything that he found unattractive. He examined the strange, elaborately decorated room minutely.  
   At length, the girl woke. Large onyx eyes blinked rapidly. She sat rather abruptly, and he could not stop himself from reaching to steady her. The eunuch twitched with the same impulse, but Gromm was closer.  
   “Where… what… what _happened?_ ”  
   Gromm glanced at the eunuch, but as he'd expected, the man did not speak. Perhaps he could not speak.  
   “My Lady Elder, you have been Awakened.”  
   The words chimed throughout every Oracle's mind at their First Joining: You have Awakened. He wasn't sure if those words were meant for Elders, as well, but there was no one there to tell him otherwise. If there had been a Crystal nearby to consult, he would have. It seemed disrespectful to ask the one that Chose her, and the ones in her new chambers were too small to be much help.  
   “Elder? Me?!” she squeaked, thoroughly undignified. “But I'm only _eighteen!_ ” she yelped.  
  _Just as I thought, only two years younger than me._  
   He knew, however, that some Crystal-Born resisted maturity for decades, due to their longer lifespans. To anyone's knowledge, he was the first orc/Crystal-Born hybrid, so none could say how long he would live. He took a rather long viewpoint because of that.  
   “Nevertheless, My Lady, you have been Chosen. Perhaps the Crystals require longer terms of service?” he offered helpfully. He'd been a child when he was Awakened, so this was not unusual, in his mind. She was old enough to be considered an adult in most cultures. Only the elves, with the longest lifespan of all known mortal races, delayed adulthood until the age of sixty.  
   The girl, whose name he still did not know, scooted toward the foot of the bed and began to pace. A sad smile ghosted across the eunuch’s face, though neither of the young people noticed.  
   “Might I ask your name?” he asked, with the deference her position afforded.  
   Her wide eyes flicked his way once, then darted away. She did not reply for a long time, but his profession required the utmost patience. He waited, clawed fingers resting palm down on his legs.  
   She stalked the length of the room many times before throwing her name at him like a dart: “Ealishe Maniera”.  
   Maniera was the surname of her mother's last spouse, and since she was now undoubtedly an adult, she would not take the name of her mother's latest one. That was just as well, for her mother's new surname was to be Sharrn. She wasn't fond of the Deep Elf her mother was marrying, either.  
   The hulking brute brought her back to the present by greeting her by name with a surprisingly low _situ_. His forehead and knee very nearly touched the fuzzy floor of… wherever she was. The other leg swung back and to the side effortlessly. His wrists did brush the textured surface, which required great skill to achieve without cracking against the ground. She was reluctantly impressed by this giant of a man. Not many were taller than she, nor more graceful, but this mountain of scales seemed to be just that.  
   “And what might I call you?” she asked reluctantly. She wasn't sure she wanted to know anything about this highly disturbing individual. He wasn't aggressive, as his appearance suggested, but something about him unsettled her.  
   He rose from his position of subservience and looked her in the eye. He would never dare in public, but everything was strange to her just now. A bit of humanity was warranted this once, he thought.  
   “The name is Gromm, milady. Gromm of Darkwash, though the place of my mother's kin wouldn't mean much to you. My sire’s surname was Kindreth, if you would prefer to use it. Otherwise, just Gromm will do.”  
   His little speech over, he knelt on the floor at her feet. It was not something she'd ever witnessed, which left her at a disadvantage. She didn't like the feeling.  
   In the customs of his mother's people, he was showing his station in life quite literally. His status was lower than hers, so he knelt before her to lower his height.  
   “Oh, for Kaia’s sake, would you get _up?_ I cannot see your eyes, and that unnerves me.”  
   Gromm stood with the simple grace of a tiger, and waited. She had earned a modicum of respect from him, for insisting that his eyes be visible. It was wise to see what lay in the hearts of one's subjects, and the eyes were said to be the window to the core of a person.  
   Ealishe decided that her discomfort had nothing to do with his physical prowess. It was his utter stillness that bothered her. He did everything with an economy of movement, and then he just… stopped, and waited for her to do something. She didn't know what he expected, nor could she tell if he was displeased with what he saw with those quiet eyes.  
   If she had been around more Oracles, she might have noticed that it was an inherent trait. Perhaps it was learned from sitting still and silent while they communicated with the Crystals, or perhaps they were Chosen _because_ of their inner stillness. No one really knew.  
   When he said nothing more, she began to pace again. This time, however, she ranted about whatever popped into her head. He, and her personal eunuch, would learn that this was her way of processing new things. It gave the older man a strange sense of peace to see that not everything changed.  
   “I don't know why _I_ was Chosen! I'm still figuring out who I am, and Kaia wants me in charge of… of… _everything?!_ ”  
   She didn't pause for replies to her questions, which was just as well. One could not answer, and the other was content to let her vent her frustrations.  
   “My mother's getting married _again_ , the Council is trying to phase out the Search for new Oracles--”  
   This was news to Gromm, but a slight widening of his eyes was the only sign of his surprise.  
   “And for all we know, you lot are the only warning system we _have!_ Why, oh why can't people see _sense?!_ ”  
   The more agitated she got, the brighter her eyes became. She railed against the Council in general, the specific Councilors who opposed Oracle rulings, and even the uncle who kept her apprised of the Council dealings. She thought he ought to be more firm with the dissenters.  
   The eunuch’s arms uncrossed, even going so far as to leave their sleeves in his shock. Gromm openly stared at their new Elder. Still, she paced and ranted, unaware that her eyes fired brightest crimson.  
   At last, Gromm risked touching her. It was just a graze of her sleeve as she passed, for it was all he dared, but she reacted as though he'd struck her.  
   She whirled to face him, scarlet eyes blazing. “Don't touch me,” she snarled.  
   His hand immediately retreated, but he pointed to an ornate hand mirror on her dressing table.  
   “What, is my hair awry? I don't _care!_ ”  
   He neatly nabbed it, without a single thread of his clothes touching hers, and held it before her.  
   She gasped, took the mirror with trembling hands.  
   “What… what does this mean? Were you wrong? Am I an Oracle, not the Elder?”  
   He gently lifted the mirror until she could see her wings, touching nothing but the silvered glass.  
   “But I thought… Oracles are never Elders, are they?”  
   Gromm was gravely serious, even for him. “There is a legend of an Elder Oracle, but for all of our sakes, I hope that it has not come to pass. I think you must Speak with the Crystals, milady. Only then will you receive clarity.”  
   She let out a puff of air that sounded suspiciously close to a growl. “Fine. How do I do that?”


	5. Kaia Asks Much

Her personal eunuch tapped the door twice, and food was carried in by a pale, shorter eunuch.  
   The younger pair looked at the food, then each other.  
   “I believe that is a request that you eat, before you Speak with the Crystals,” Gromm said with dry humor.  
   Ealishe laughed nervously, then perched on a chair at the smallish table on the other side of the room. Gromm remained where he was, silent as always.  
   She picked up a slice of potato bread, paused with it halfway to her mouth. The eunuch, dark as he was, blended with the wall, but Gromm stood out like a big blue-gray boulder.  
   She had three choices, though only two occurred to her. She could order him to leave, but the reins of power were new to her. She could let him stand there, by her bed, or she could invite him to… what meal was this? She didn't know how long she'd been unconscious.  
   “Shards, man! Don't stand there like a lump, sit _down!_ ”  
   He made to kneel on the floor again, since she'd taken the chair he sat in earlier. She snapped her fingers imperiously and jabbed a talon at the chair opposite hers.  
   He had to hide a smile at her ferocity. _She would have made a good orc,_ he thought.  
   She fought a smile of her own as he tested the seemingly fragile chair before settling gingerly on it. She could have told him that the coiled bottom was designed by the elves to distribute weight evenly, and it flexed to accept more or less stress, but it amused her to see him less than confident for once.  
   Ealishe spread bean paste on the slice of potato bread, but Gromm made no move to join her. She bit into the savory treat, and still he refrained. She watched him while she chewed. It unnerved Midrii when she did the same at the dinner table, but Gromm sat patiently, hands on knees. He didn't even pour some of the excellent gourd juice that sat in a fluted carafe at his elbow.  
   “Have you eaten?” she asked, rather abruptly.  
   “I have broken fast,” he said carefully.  
   She stiffened. “When I… the Crystal… that was _hours_ after breakfast!”  
   He shrugged, the movement like shifting granite.  
   She thrust a plate at him with a glare, would not resume eating until he heeded the silent order to join her. The eunuch allowed a tiny smile to surface, knowing neither would notice.  
   Gromm poured _jaja_ , but it was for her. She refused to touch it until he poured a second glass for himself. The color indicated a rare import from elven lands; one he'd never had the fortune to taste.  
   She remembered her uncle bringing it to Midyear Feast once. She wanted to see what this behemoth thought of the sweet purple juice.  
   He took a surprisingly small sip of the _jaja_ , smiled, and continued sipping throughout the meal. Not once did he gulp, or drool. His manipulation of the flatware was as cultured and dignified as her own, when she'd a mind to use her manners. In the face of his refined etiquette, she most _definitely_ had a mind to appear proper!  
   Gromm was accustomed to people assuming him to be little more than brute muscle. His father taught him all that he knew, before he left. It was his mother who taught him the more coarse, yet necessary aspects of life. That, in itself might, have surprised Skyfolk, if they knew it. Typically, or so he heard, it was the mother who taught the gentler arts; even among orcs.  
  _Well, “gentle” is a relative term with my mother's people,_ he thought without rancor.  
   The Oracle watched the Elder Oracle, and she him. They each took the measure of the other, over something as deceptively simple as a meal. Every motion and facial expression was analyzed. Somewhere, they knew that they might be spending a lot of time in the presence of the other. What kind of person were they? Could they be trusted?  
   No small talk was exchanged, which was unusual for two strangers. However, it was not remarkable for two Oracles to share company without words.  
   He would have stopped eating when she did, but she waved a hand at the plentiful food negligently.  
   “You're a strapping lad. Surely, you must require more food than a mere slip of a girl.”  
   That she echoed his earlier assessment did not escape his notice. He did fill his plate a second time, as requested. She was correct, and besides, one rarely argued with an Elder.  
   A ghost of a smile graced the teak face behind Gromm. It seemed these younglings would continue to amuse him.  
   Gromm polished off the second plateful of food efficiently, rested the fork on the edge of the plate, and sat straight. He said nothing, which unnerved Ealishe. She decided then and there that she would not allow him to see how much it bothered her.  
   She stood abruptly, which was her way, and strode to the door. She expected him to follow her, and she was not disappointed. He made no sound, but she… felt him behind her, like a bulwark.  
   “Is there any Crystal in particular that you would like to use?” she threw over her shoulder.  
   “Minor correction, My Lady: We do not _use_ the Crystals. We are merely conduits for their words.” His deep voice rumbled against her skull. She could almost swear that her horns vibrated like tuning forks.  
   Ealishe suppressed a shiver. She covered the reaction with irritation, which wasn't very Elderly behavior.  
   “Fine, just pick a Crystal to talk to, or listen to, or whatever.”  
   Gromm frowned, but held his tongue. If she was to become a true Oracle, she would need to learn patience.  
   “Any good-sized Crystal will suffice. For a First Communion, I would recommend the one that anchors the garden wall nearby.”  
   She knew the one he meant. Instead of fences, they planted crystals at regular intervals, and used rope or chain to connect them, depending on the part of town. Wealthier areas used silver chains, while the poorer zones near the Gate used coarse hemp rope. Sometimes, they used Crystals that jutted from the Cavern walls. The fences were more lines of demarcation than methods of keeping people out. Without roads, it was often difficult to tell where one was, or what belonged to whom. Skyfolk often became disoriented or lost on this side of the Wall.  
   The large garden they entered abutted her new quarters, and made use of its wall along one edge. Nothing was square in Tantalus Caverns. Even the houses were rounded. Most gardens were roughly circular, and many used the walls of neighboring houses as anchor points. It used fewer crystals that way. Conservation of resources was tantamount in a cavern that had to trade for the bulk of its staples.  
   Ealishe stood in front of the Crystal that jutted from the wall, fists on her hips. Gromm shook his head at the ground, fighting a smile. _She looks like she's ready to do battle, not Speak with the oldest Power known to our kind._  
   He knelt at the base of the wall, facing the Crystal. She plopped gracelessly next to him, still armed for battle. Her silent eunuch stood behind them and to one side, as it was his duty to see that she came to no harm in his demesne.  
   Gromm sighed, barely perceptibly. Nothing he did was large, or fast, or loud. Years of rigid training from a young age made it so. He would have to teach this adult woman to do what now came naturally to him.  
   “My Lady,” he said slowly, not sure where to begin. “You cannot… throw yourself at a Crystal. You must first clear your mind of everything else. One cannot Hear the Crystals over one's own thoughts.”  
   Ealishe fidgeted, which wasn't a good sign.  
   “And how am I supposed to clear my mind? Mother is getting married to someone I dislike next week, and oh, I don't know, I just became the fracking _Elder!_ ”  
   She sat, legs crossed to one side, tail twitching, pouting like a child. If anyone saw her sitting thus, her reputation as Elder would be in shambles. He decided to try that tack to get her in the proper mindset. He sat back on his heels, arms crossed over his massive chest like a disappointed father.  
   “Yes, you _are_ the Elder. I was wondering when you would remember that.”  
   He paused to let his words sink in. She blinked a few times and stopped slouching.  
   “Being an Elder requires discipline, as does being an Oracle. I cannot say if the same level of control is needed for your Elderly duties, but a lack of it can have severe consequences here.” He nodded at the Crystal before them.  
   “What consequences?” she asked hesitantly.  
   He stroked his dark, intricately braided beard, unsure how much to tell her. She was impetuous, to be sure. He wanted to instill caution, not fear. He opted for a lesser injury that was serious enough to give her pause.  
   “In some instances of impatience, I have seen a person struck blind or deaf, or rendered mute.” It was the truth, of that she could be sure.  
   Her eyes became two ebony discs that dominated her triangular face. Her tail stilled, arms uncrossed.  
   Suddenly serious, she imitated his posture as closely as she felt comfortable. Kneeling was never easy on her longer, thinner tail (she inevitably knelt on it), so she tucked her feet more neatly beneath one hip. She hand coiled her amethyst tail about her legs, rested her hands on her pale blue leggings. The perpetual slouch of a teenager was replaced by the elongated spine of a Lady.  
   “Now what?” she asked in a more modulated voice.  
   “When you have found your balance, you simply open yourself to it. You must not fight it.”  
   Gromm set one big palm lightly on the reflective surface of the Crystal and closed his eyes. As soon as his hand touched the Crystal, his eyes glowed topaz. The light became a thin crescent where his eyelids met his cheek. It was almost as unnerving as his perpetual stillness.  
   Ealishe closed her eyes before trying to touch the Crystal. She didn't know how to empty a mind that was always full. What did she think about, to clear her mind?

    _:Are You quite certain?:_ Gromm asked the Crystal, shocked and honored at the same time.  
    _:Yes. It is the only way she will Hear Me, at this moment.:_  
   Only rigid training kept his eyes from opening, or his body from stiffening. He got the sense that this ability to restrain himself was precisely why Kaia trusted him to do such a tricky thing.  
  _:As you wish.:_  
   He reached blindly for one of the tiny hands that he knew likely rested on her thigh. He felt her body jerk, but he could not allow himself to care. Detached from his body or its needs, he ran his palm over her knee, up her leg, until he captured the thin talons in his own.  
   The eunuch behind them tensed at this intimacy, unsure what he should do about it.  
   Gromm Felt when she entered his Union with the Crystal. It was jarring, discordant. It took every ounce of control he possessed to keep her separate from the Crystal, Joined to him, yet in Communion with both. There is a very good reason that three-sided scales did not exist. It is nearly impossible to balance them properly.  
    _:Speak briefly, I beg of You. This may not last long,:_ he warned Kaia.  
   The entity took him quite seriously. Instead of speaking in words, as he was accustomed to, She hurled a myriad of images into their minds. The effect was so disorienting and foreign that, despite his years of training, he was thrown clear of the Crystal, landing flat on his back at the dark eunuch’s feet.


	6. Omens

He woke in an unfamiliar room, to an unfamiliar scent. The arm bearing the pungent-smelling stuff retreated when his eyes opened.  
   “Like I said, not permanent incapacitation.”  
   Gromm’s eyes swung to meet familiar brown ones. “Mother? They called _you?_ ”  
   She smiled warmly down at him, something she hadn't been able to do in years. Her son had inherited his height from both parents. He stood a full head taller than her, these days.  
   “You forget, lad. No one here knows what's normal for an orc. Who else would they send for?”  
   He cautiously attempted to sit up. That turned out to be a poor choice. His skull was still ringing, the very bones seeming to shift in an attempt to contain the knowledge that was forced into him, far too quickly.  
   He fell back, clutching his head in both paws. He did not moan, or writhe. He knew from experience that either would increase the pain.  
   Minutes later, he knew where he was. He also knew that his Elder was unaware of the wisdom in keeping quiet and still. His paws covered his head again, over his ears. He tried not to wince, but he was young yet. The pain spread down over his face.  
   “Here, drink this,” his mother murmured.  
   He waved it away. “Won't work. Send for the Oracle Healer.”  
   She wrapped his hand around the mug with assurances that it was prescribed by the man himself.  
   “He is attempting to tend the new Elder. It doesn't sound like he's having much success.”  
   Gromm stifled a groan. He choked down the bitter brew designed to soothe inflamed neurons before rolling carefully out of bed. His mother tried to push him back in the bed; but not only was he taller than her, he was also stronger.  
   He stumbled the short distance to her chambers, seeing double. One hand was clamped over an ear, the other skimmed from wall to wall. He followed her moans, half blind.  
   The eunuchs could have stopped him, but they chose not to. They'd seen by now that he could be trusted, and might be able to handle the fiery lass better than they could.  
   He pushed open the door, nabbed the nasty stuff from the Healer (who was also a second cousin), and tottered toward the bed. His Lady Elder was thrashing about, covers tangled around her slim form.  
   Thinking quickly, for the potion would strike him down soon, he set the stuff on the table near her head. Opting for speed and efficiency over decorum, he snatched her wrists and pinned them at her waist. Both wrists were transferred to one massive paw, with his considerable weight holding them down. He held her jaw open while his cousin poured it down her throat. He clapped the hand up over her mouth until she swallowed. It was a maneuver they'd used many times before, though never on a person of such import. Her eyes burned crimson holes into his.  
   Then he made a valiant effort to return to his bed before the painkiller slammed through his system. He almost made it, too. His mother caught his dead weight in the doorway of his temporary quarters.

   Ealishe, much shorter and lighter, succumbed before her outrage could fully manifest.  
   The dark eunuch permitted a smile to spread across his smooth features. The young never ceased to amuse him.  
   “He is quite impressive,” the pale eunuch said.  
   The Healer was quick to agree. “I fear she would have done irreparable harm to herself if he had not stepped in.”  
   Neither eunuch was aware of his relation to the Oracle, so they simply nodded sagely.  
   “I fear we shall have a difficult time with this one,” he said, sounding ancient and tired.  
   “She is young, that is all. We have had young Elders in the past. They always come around.”  
   Aldus did not know which eunuch spoke, for he'd never been to the Elder’s Quarters, but it did not matter. They misunderstood.  
   “I do not refer to her youth. It seems that no one remembers the Prophecy anymore except my kind.”  
   He looked each man in the face before continuing. “The Prophecy warns of the Great Collapse, and its omens.”  
   The pale eunuch scoffed. “That is merely a trick you people use to keep your jobs!”  
   The mahogany skin of the dark eunuch’s face pinched with worry. Even though the Healer was no Oracle, it was Oracles who spoke the Prophecy in the beginning.  
   “The Great Collapse will happen.” His voice was rough with suppressed emotion. “The first Omen is an Elder Oracle.”


	7. Aftershocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Backlash is a nasty thing...

Gromm woke hours later, if the sands were to be trusted. His mother was gone, and no one had taken her place. He lived alone, in the Oracle dormitory, so this did not trouble him.  
   He tested his head, found it achy, but bearable. He sat up slowly, expecting at any moment to be beset by nausea, pain, or both. Fortune smiled on him, for neither condition plagued him.  
   He stood experimentally, found only mild vertigo. He didn't understand why he was in such relatively good condition. Throughout his training, he'd been warned about Backlash. He'd seen others struck by it, and the milder cases were abed for at least a week! The worst was unconscious for an entire _month!_  
  _Did Kaia protect us somehow?_ he wondered.  
   He padded softly to the door, taking care not to jar his tender skull with heavy footsteps. He was met by a eunuch he didn't recognize, carrying a tray of food.  
   Gromm backed out of his way and sat at the table in his room.  
   “We expected you to be out for a while longer,” he said in soft, almost feminine tones. He appreciated the gentle sound, sore as he was.  
   “As did I,” he admitted. “I have never taken ill, or misused a Crystal, but I have witnessed its effects. One is typically unconscious for at least a full day.”  
   The eunuch set the tray down with barely a tap of metal on wood. His attention to acoustic detail was quite welcome after severe Crystalburn.  
   Gromm’s mother sailed in, not as quietly, and dropped into the chair across from him. He winced, then regretted the facial movement. The eunuch flinched at the same time.  
   “Whose room is this?” Gromm asked, suddenly aware that he was still in the Elder’s Quarters. His mother's continued presence brought a sense of propriety that had been somewhat lacking.  
   “This room was traditionally used for the Elder’s… Consort, but as she is too young to take a Consort, we saw no harm in it.”  
   “Too young?” his mother snorted. Gromm covered the ear nearest her, in self-defense. “Says who? I was _married_ by the time I was her age!”  
   “Says... me!” Ealishe panted, clinging to the doorjamb.  
   Gromm stood as quickly as his head would permit and reached her side in two long strides. He hoisted her other arm over his shoulder and half walked, half dragged her to the chair he'd been sitting in. She resisted, but he would brook no argument.  
   “At this rate, ye may not make it to yer own coronation,” he growled. “It seems my lot in life to save you from yourself.”  
   She glared up at him, eyes throwing crimson daggers.  
   “Furthermore, as an Elder, you are no longer ‘too young’ for anything. It's time to grow up, lass, like it or not, and the first order of business is taking care of yourself, _disi!_ ”  
   Ealishe stiffened. Who was _he_ to call her a silly child, and in her own tongue, no less?!  
   “Well, if being Elder is so grand, why don't _you_ take the job?” she snapped, scowling when her voice set off shards of pain throughout her skull.  
   Uncomfortable looks and blushes were exchanged every which way but at her.  
   “What am I missing?” she asked, more quietly.  
   “I'm guessing you slept through social studies.” His mother had yet to realize that her voice was causing them both pain.  
   “It was boring and tedious,” Ealishe said defensively.  
   Eventually, Gromm broke the silence. “There is only one way for me to become an Elder, now.”  
   “What, do you have to kill me or something?”  
   Gromm laughed, a great roar of sound that startled everyone, including him. It did not last long, in the face of Crystalburn.  
   “I fail to see what is so funny,” the eunuch said stiffly.  
   “I am quite glad that you cannot read my thoughts,” he said. His mother knew what he found funny, but she wasn't about to enlighten them.  
   “The only way out now, My Lady, is for you to marry. Me, if you'd rather I took on the responsibility.”  
   Orcish mating was notoriously brutal, and had been known to result in death. It wasn't funny at all. He must be mad to have found humor in it.  
   Ealishe found the wall immensely interesting, refusing to look at anyone. She had been rash, and childish, and she knew it. Hadn't she just been thinking that very morning about the changes she would make, if she were in charge?  
   The eunuch privately thought that marrying the steady, capable half-orc might not be such a bad idea. The people might find this volatile lass too unsteady to rule. Revolt was always a possibility, no matter how rulers were chosen. His former master had died just that way, and he did not fancy having to search for employment again.  
   Gromm knelt beside the table, which put him at her eye level, and began filling her plate. His mother selected her own food. Only when the ladies were served did the giant put a single morsel on his own plate.  
   The table looked ridiculously small with his hulking body next to it. Even his mother appeared small next to him. Still, his manners were arguably the most refined of the three.  
_Yes, this man could be just what she needs,_ the eunuch thought before he left. With the older woman present as chaperone, he was free to wait in the hallway.  
   The eunuchs who could speak tended to gossip like old women. It was not long before he found that they had all reached the same conclusion. The dark, silent eunuch simply observed. Even the other House Eunuchs did not know if he was truly mute, for no one ever saw him eat. For all they knew, his tongue had been removed, and he did not wish anyone to see the stump. Perhaps he'd been born without a tongue, they whispered behind his back. None dared ask, of course. He had been a House Eunuch as long as anyone could remember, thus he had seniority.  
   When the door opened, the half-orc was carrying a rebellious Elder. Apparently, he'd gotten her to see reason, however reluctantly. She suffered herself to be carried to her room, lain in bed, and dosed with the powerful painkiller. Before she would drink the foul stuff, however, she requested the use of the chamberpot.  
   Gromm left her in the care of her personal eunuch for that task. For some reason, that irked her. She barely knew this dark, silent man, yet she was supposed to allow him to see her exposed in the most humiliating way?  
   She forgot, as she would continue to do, that he was incapable of compromising her virginity. He was as tall as she, and did not look the age he must be, to have attained the status he had. His body, from what little she could see in the voluminous black robes, seemed young and strong. Indeed, he helped her from that most undignified of postures with ease. She felt power coiled tightly beneath the ebon shroud, marveled that such a man should be laid low the way he had.  
  _More’s the pity,_ she thought sadly.  
   If he had guessed the direction her thoughts had taken, the Head Eunuch would have been amused. The other eunuchs would be appalled, but Zezu had a strange sense of humor.  
   He lay her gently on the bed and handed her the neuron-soothing concoction. One brow was raised, as if to ask if she would again have to be forced to drink it.  
   Almost defiantly, she tossed it back. She fought a coughing spasm, but the pressure that built from holding it in did as much damage as the act itself. Fortunately, the potent brew took hold swiftly, and she was spared further agony.


	8. Orcs and Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to know some of the peripheral characters a bit better.

Gromm requested a less potent dose of medicine. The Healer objected, of course. His other patient could barely stand.  
   “You're forgetting, Aldus--my son is half orc. We've always been a hardy bunch. Why, Gromm’s never been sick a day in his life.”  
   Her second cousin by marriage frowned, shifted his weight haughtily. “This isn't the Dwarven flu, milady. This is an affliction of the _mind_ , not the body.”  
   “Aye, but he's got the best of both worlds in his blood, does my boy. His father was one of you, and you're smarter and more stubborn than any race I've seen.”  
   Aldus drew himself up to his full height, well under her own, and looked down his nose at her. “Since you cannot seem to tell, _I_ am only _half_ Crystal-Born. The other half is human.”  
   She merely cocked her head at him. “Eh? Well, who am I to know? I may have married one, but that doesn't mean he said much about his people.”  
   Gromm knew that his father's secrecy had been a bone of contention between his parents for years. Being a half-blood, and inducted into his father's culture after being Chosen, he knew why she must never know what he knew. That was why they'd chosen not to tell her that he'd become a full member of the clan when he was twelve. She would have resented him, begged for information, or both.  
   What she did not know, and neither half-breed would tell her, was that a person could easily tell a Trueblood from a half-blood, if they knew what to look for. For instance, Truebloods have no visible ear. Half-bloods have the ear shape of their other parent.  
   Another thing that set half-bloods apart was their skin color. Crystal-Born only came in three colors: blues, greens, and rarely, purples. Half-bloods tended to have more pink, yellow, or brown in their pigment. There were minor differences in hair growth patterns, but no one expected people to notice such a tiny thing.  
   The biggest tell, however, was the feet. A Trueblood Crystal-Born walked digitigrade, or up on their toes. A half-blood walked plantigrade, using their whole foot.  
   “My point is, he's fared better than the Lady Elder. You can see that he's standing without too much trouble. He even carried Her Ladyship to her room. No matter whose side of the family he got it from, he's taking this fairly well, yeah? So go easy on the stuff. That's all I'm asking.”  
   “Hybrid vigor,” Aldus murmured.  
   “Aye, probably,” Gromm agreed.  
   His mother didn't seem to be familiar with the term, but if it made him see her way, she'd take it.  
   Aldus sprinkled half the normal dose into a flagon of Dwarven ale. The alcohol was, to his mind, guaranteed to put him to sleep. With less bitterroot (as the trainees had inaptly dubbed it), he would need something extra to knock him out.  
   Gromm drank the nasty stuff, and another flagon of ale for good measure. He knew that one was unlikely to do the trick.  
   To the surprise of the Healer, but neither orc, he chatted with them for half an hour before it took effect.  
   When he slid down the pillows, arms dropping to the covers, Aldus sighed. “I was beginning to think he'd never go under.”  
   “I told ye, he's a strapping lad. Like a minotaur, he is.”  
   Aldus shook his head. “I doubt I will ever understand the depths of an orc.”  
   The older woman simply laughed. Had he not been looking at her, he could easily have mistaken it for a man's laugh. He failed to see what his kinsman saw in the woman, but there was no accounting for taste. He left to take his evening meal, with the hefty woman at his heel. It seemed she would not coddle her strapping lad.  
   They met the Captain of the Sovereign Guard outside the Elder’s Quarters. Aldus knew what she was about, so he hailed her.  
   “What is it, Healer Aldus? I have pressing matters to attend.”  
   “I know, mum. That's what I wanted to tell you. Her Ladyship is indisposed.”  
   Lyesha’s eyebrows rose. “We've got another Lady Elder, eh? Well, that's at least something I can bring to the barracks. When do you expect her to receive company?”  
   The older man shook his head. “One never knows. I would guess tomorrow, at the earliest.”  
   “Tomorrow? I've never heard of a Chosen being out for an entire day! What happened?”  
   “When I know, believe me, you will know. For now, they are resting.” He stepped away, but she followed.  
   “They? Is she married?”  
   Gromm’s mother laughed, and even Aldus’ mouth twitched.  
   “No, ah, it's a long story. All I've been told is that they were both found unconscious, next to the garden Crystal.”  
   Lyesha shifted impatiently. “And just who is the other person with her?”  
   Aldus drew himself erect. “He is not _with_ her, as you imply. He is the Oracle who found her.”  
   Lyesha had more questions than answers, but she could see that they would not be answered until tomorrow. She ground her teeth.  
   “I expect to be fully briefed in the morning, Aldus.” She spun on her heel and stalked toward the barracks.

   Not far from the Elder’s Quarters and barracks, the monk who witnessed her transformation was in a home like many others. His original intent, upon returning to Tantalus Caverns, had been to visit the Brood Palace. He had a pressing need to see someone there.  
   Not long after the transformation, however, he'd been waylaid by a former client of his. The elf was not immediately familiar to him, as he'd been gone for five years.  
   “Apologies, my good man. You must excuse my poor memory. What may I do for you, and is it something that I have done in the past?”  
   The man wrung his hands, stammering in his haste. “Yes, she… it.... I don't…” Then all at once, he blurted “The demon is back!”  
   Strangely, the monk smiled. “I see. Lead on, good sir.”  
   The elf trotted anxiously ahead of him, nattering on about how his sweet Lucine wasn't herself lately. She was exhibiting classic signs of possession. He couldn't understand how the demon got hold of her again, but he was certain that Meron could set her right again.  
   Into the house they went, the older man rattling up the stairs like a bunch of twigs. The younger man strode confidently behind, arms clasped behind his back.  
   In the bedroom on the end, lying in a large bed, was an elven maid drenched in her own sweat. When she saw her father, her eyes became wild. She spouted what to the layman would be nonsense, but Meron knew to be Undercommon.  
   He turned to her father and advised him to wait downstairs. The man didn't want to leave his daughter. Meron gently reminded him of the last time, how she'd howled and cursed.  
   “I cannot guarantee that it will not hurl objects about the room. Please, it is safer for you downstairs.”  
   The older gentleman nodded jerkily. “Of course.” He left, footsteps rattling back the way they came.  
   Meron locked the door behind him, leaned against the wood until her father left. Only when he could hear no more did he approach the bed where the sallow-faced girl lay.  
   “Really, this is too much,” he tsked. “A simple summons would have done, my lady Lucine. Your pronunciation has improved, by the way. One would almost believe you truly are possessed.”  
   Lucine did not drop the act, as he expected. After all, he was the one who taught her a few words in Undercommon. It was he who told her what possession looked like. It was far easier to carry on an affair if her parents thought she was being cured of possession.  
   “Lucine, my pet, why do you not look at me?”  
   The writhing, cursing creature in the bed jerked into a sitting position and glared at him.  
   It was then that he knew this was not his sweet Lucine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I did have an influence for Monk Meron, and it is exactly who you think.


	9. The Exorcist of Kirishii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meron isn't called a High Monk for nothing!

Meron backed away from the bed, never taking his eyes off the creature before him. He grimly rolled up his sleeves and secured them with hidden snaps. Out came the holy water, holy symbol, and ceremonial dagger. He opened the door long enough to call for heavy rope or chain, then secured it behind him.  
   They waited, eyes locked, until the father of the unfortunate girl tapped hesitantly on the door. Meron slid aside, took the rope, and firmly closed the door in the man's face. He did all of this without breaking eye contact with the beast. He turned the lock behind his back, and approached the demon.  
   He sidled up to the foot of the bed. Quick as a snake, he whipped the rope around her foot and secured it to the curved bedpost. Just as fast, he lashed the other foot to the bed frame.  
   The demon cocked its head, waiting to see how he would tie its arms. It watched his every move. He did not sever the rope at her feet. If one limb came away from the bedframe, he wanted the other three tied to it. It wasn't much of a hobble, but it might buy him time.  
   Meron Kurai, High Monk of Kirishii, was no fool. This was not his first exorcism, nor would it be his last. The past five years had tempered him into a weapon against this very thing.  
   He tied a slipknot in the next segment of rope. Instead of putting his body at risk by reaching for the wrist nearest him, he flicked the knotted rope over the appendage and yanked it to the frame. He tied it fast and leapt back, barely avoiding the clawed fingers of its opposite hand.  
   Around the bed he circled, watching the thing inside his former lover. He picked up the end of the rope trailing from the footboard, tied another slipknot. He had no illusions about what would happen next. It wouldn't be tricked again. He would have to get in close to tie that deadly arm.  
   In Undercommon, it taunted him. “Scared of a little girl, monk? We were so close, Meron.” The voice became rough, harsh. “Then you left us! Poor Lucine wept for _days_. Made her easy prey, really.”  
   Meron struck while it was monologuing. One long arm wrapped around hers, palm cupping her elbow, shoulder thrust beneath hers. His ear was perilously close to her fangs. His other arm, rope looped around his wrist, captured the wrist that had less room to maneuver. He slid his wrist over hers, the loose coil catching her clawed fingers. Once the loop was over her wrist, he yanked his own out and snapped it tight.  
   This achieved, in mere seconds, he leapt clear. Having his shoulder jammed in her armpit had prevented any serious bites, but some of his raven hair was sacrificed in the process. He felt for any break in his skin, and was relieved to find none. The last time he'd been scratched, it had burned for weeks. It was a miracle that it had missed his face.  
   Unconsciously, he traced the scar on his neck. The demon followed his hand, baring its teeth in glee.  
   “Almost got you that time,” it sneered.  
   It wanted him to think that it had been the one to inflict the wound, but demons and devils lied. It hadn't said “I almost got you,” because a less experienced monk would hear what it did not say, and assume. He knew better. The demon that marked him was dead, by his hand.  
   Meron tossed holy water in its face as a rebuke. His work had just begun, and neither would leave this room the way they entered.  
   He chanted a prayer over his ceremonial knife. The demon scoffed, thinking that he would use the blade on the girl.  
It was wrong.

   Hours later, Meron unlocked the door. He called down for towels, water, food, and wine. Then he untied the arms and legs of his sweet Lucine.  
   He was unwinding the last of the rope when her father came in with a tray. His sleeves were still rolled up, so the man got a clear look at his forearms. Many lines crisscrossed the thin, tightly-corded muscles. Some were older than others. This night had earned him seven more.  
   Meron could have tended his wounds later. He could have spared him the shock of the bloody knife, as well. But people tended to be more appreciative of his work when they saw the cost. When he hid his own disfiguration, all people saw was the mark of his holy symbol permanently etched into the forehead of their loved one. One wealthy merchant had refused payment because of it.  
   “How will I marry her off now?” he'd hollered.  
   “By telling them that she will never be possessed again. The Mark of my goddess proves it.” Meron had no sympathy for his plight. Instead of showing the man the cost, he'd left without payment.  
   This father was very different. He humbly offered to clean the monk's wounds while he ate.  
   “Under normal circumstances, I would decline. In truth, I am too weary to argue.”  
   He ate the bread and cheese, and reflected on the exorcism. It was rare that he must paint the holy symbol so many times. It required holy blood; a holy sacrifice, according to Kirishii. Only the most experience monks and clerics dared attempt it. Typically, he only had to anoint the afflicted two or three times. It was said, though it could not be proven, that the number of times a demon or devil must be Cleansed told the exorcist the circle of Hades the beast came from. If that were true, this one came from the seventh circle of Hell. He dearly hoped that was not so.  
   He came out of his daze when his wounds had been cleansed and bound. He unsnapped and rolled his sleeves down.  
   “I thank you for your care and hospitality, good sir. As for your daughter, you need never fear possession again. In my time away, I have found a more… permanent solution. The Mark of Kirishii forbids any evil entity entry into her vessel. I do not know how long she has been without food or drink, so it may be best to feed her a hearty broth until she feels able to stomach solid foods. She should drink plenty of fluids. I do not recommend spirits for at least one week.”  
   He drank deeply of the wine, after blessing it. Then, duty discharged, he excused himself. He walked straight and tall, despite the blood loss. All the way to the Sky Travellers’ Inn, outside the Wall, he strode.  
   He purchased a room, declined the company of Bess, and went straight to his room. He Warded the door and window.  
   Then he fell into the deep oblivion that always followed a Cleansing Exorcism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know, not Miroku's style. I said he was inspired by him, but I put a little Constantine style flair in there.


	10. Comprehension and Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elder and Oracle must unravel the mystery Kaia laid before them.

Gromm woke after a scant hour. He got up, made use of the chamberpot, and sat on the bed. He sat with his back against the wall, cross-legged. His mind was cluttered with thoughts, impressions, and the information overload from Kaia. He needed to sort through it all, and the only way he knew was to meditate. He doubted Ealishe would be patient enough for-- _No, I mustn't think of her. She would only distract me._  
   He executed one of the more complex relaxation exercises, breathing slow and deep. Once he was fully immersed in his own mind, his chest barely stirred.  
   He let himself drift in the quiet world inside his head, never acknowledging any one thought. He allowed them to brush past, until he encountered two tangled balls of information. He could not tell them apart from the outside. He suspected that one was related to his impetuous Elder. If he had to guess, the larger knot was the one he sought. Kaia had imparted a great deal of knowledge in a short time. Now, he must unravel it.  
   He did not hurl himself into the core of data, as another might. Rather, he skimmed the outermost layer first. This was not news to him. It was basic Oracle lore, now confirmed by Kaia Herself.  
   Gromm circled the knot again, shaving off another tidbit. Here were memories, or stories, no one ever knew for certain. He'd Heard them before, so they were released.  
   Around and around he went, gleaning bits and pieces from the data ball. Little of it was new to him, but that did not surprise him. Kaia was attempting, through him, to communicate with Ealishe, who knew none of it.  
   When he'd gotten down to the core, however, nothing was familiar. Everything was new, and all of it was disturbing. Only a lifetime of servitude and rigorous discipline kept him from losing his calm detachment. The mantra of an Oracle was “Hear first, feel second.”  
   So he let the images wash over him, one after another. He absorbed their meanings, tucked them away in his mind to analyze when he had the leisure to do so. When the last fragment shimmered into nothing, he prepared to return to the waking world.  
   A soft graze across his cheek snapped him back into his body almost painfully. His eyes sprang open, bright yellow.  
   Ealishe jerked away, a single tear making her talon shimmer in the light of the phosphorescent fungi along the walls. She was kneeling on his bed, hand outstretched. It was highly improper. Before he could think, words burst from him.  
   “Where is your eunuch, that you are allowed to sit on a man's bed unchaperoned?”  
   Ealishe enjoyed the crack in his oh-so-tight control. _So he can touch me, but if I touch him, it upsets his precious balance? Good to know,_ she thought smugly.  
   She sat straighter, flush with newfound power. “If you must know, he will return shortly with refreshments. Since you seemed to be indisposed, he thought it safe enough.”  
   Somewhat put-out, she added “They seem to respect _you_ more than they do _me!_ ”  
   Gromm sat as straight as possible, tucked his feet closer to his buttocks, in an attempt to put more space between them. He scrubbed his face vigorously, noting the moisture beneath his eyes.  
   “As I've said, you must restrain your impetuous nature and act more mature, if you wish to be taken seriously.”  
   She scowled up at him, but he just smiled indulgently down at her as though she were a recalcitrant child.  
   Gromm knew precisely what he was doing. She needed to see him as an older authority figure, or she would never listen to his counsel. He was only two years her senior, but worlds wiser. The girl needed a steadying influence in her life, not a potential suitor. She would have a plethora of the latter, once her identity was widely known.  
   “You bear an extra burden that Elders before you have never had to bear. It is heavier than you yet know, I am afraid.”  
   And the worst of it was, he'd been Bound from revealing to her, or anyone, what he'd learned. She must unravel the message for herself.  
   In what seemed to be an abrupt change of subject, he asked if she had dreamed while under the effects of the synapse soothing potion.  
   Her eyes shot up, startled. “How did you know that?”  
   His eyes, now back to their customary brown-rimmed black, softened with understanding. “Without the training required to Commune with the Crystals, the information you've received must find a way to be understood.”  
   She gazed up at him through her long lashes. “And what of you? Have you come to an understanding of what they said?”  
   “I have,” he said, without elaborating. He could not lie, but she would not like his reply.  
   She waited, but he said nothing else.  
   “Are you going to tell me?” she asked testily.  
   He bowed his head. “I cannot. Kaia has decreed that you must find the answers within yourself. I may only be a guide, nothing more.”  
   For his own peace of mind, he meant the last quite literally. He would not allow personal feelings to interfere with the process. He would be her mentor, perhaps even a friend, but nothing more. The lives of everyone in the Cavern depended on her, and he would not be a distraction.  
   The Great Collapse was indeed imminent.


	11. Impropriety and Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Elder needs to learn her lesson, one way or another.

Ealishe bounced off the bed, intending to pace, but she fell back with a grunt. She was not used to infirmity of any kind. A scowl stamped across her face, lavender scales distorted unpleasantly.  
   “It seems I really don't get to appreciate my youth,” she pouted.  
   Gromm was unsympathetic. “It seems you've appreciated it for eighteen years already.”  
   She drilled twin crimson beams into his face, but not a flicker of yellow rose to challenge her. He'd returned to the unflappable rock she'd first met.  
   She sighed heavily.  
   The pale eunuch brought the refreshments then, effectively ending her sulk. The look he gave her for sitting on the bed of an unmarried male could have curdled milk.  
   Ealishe meekly scooted close to a chair and allowed herself to be lifted onto it. She would not meet the older man's eyes, for fear of further reproof.  
   Gromm unfolded his long, muscular legs and stretched the kinks out of them. He did not know how long he'd been sitting that way, but it felt like hours had passed. He calmly ignored the refreshments being laid out, and the disapproval of the eunuch.  
   When he was seated across from his Lady Elder, the older man voiced a warning that Ealishe could not ignore.  
   “If I had not seen with my own eyes that the Oracle was deep in meditation when I left, and if I did not know the precise time you two were left alone, I might have leapt to conclusions. I doubt you would like those conclusions, My Lady.” He looked down his long nose at her before issuing his decree. “If I catch you in the chambers of an unmarried male again, unaccompanied, I will be forced to assume the worst.”  
   She nodded up at him, but he wasn't finished.  
   “Do you know what the consequence is, if I assume the worst?”  
   She shook her head, eyes wide in her small face.  
   “Traditionally, if a girl is caught alone with a male, the sentence is marriage,” Gromm informed her soberly. She was more inclined to listen to a man who could not lie, and he did not wish to be wed just yet; particularly to a volatile stranger.  
   Her head whipped around in shock. She tried to stand, but she was still weak from Backlash. The eunuch pressed her gently into the chair.  
   “You are properly chaperoned now, milady. Please, enjoy your repast.”  
   Ealishe picked at the food on her plate, refusing to look at either man. She was mortified. The last thing she wanted was to be _married!_ Her mother's capriciousness rather soured her on the prospect. She would make it a point to bring a eunuch everywhere she went, from now on!  
   At length, Gromm asked about her dream. She peeked through her lashes, saw his normal, inscrutable features. He did not seem to be poking fun, or making conversation to cover embarrassment. Not that she could tell if he were, but he appeared genuine.  
   She bit into a piece of cheese, trying to make sense of the strange images she'd seen. He waited, patient as ever.  
   “I saw… I think they were… houses with legs..?”  
   Gromm laughed. “Aye, I can see how ye’d see ‘em as such.”  
   Her brow furrowed. “So, then… does that mean that the sleds have legs, too..?”  
   He chuckled. “Aye, that they do. The floor of the Cavern is so delicate, we dare not allow wheels to disturb it.”  
   “But… what _is_ the floor? What's it made of?”  
   He leaned back as far as he could in the backless chair. “That, My Lady, is the question no one but an Oracle has bothered to ask.”  
   “And yet I cannot help but notice that you haven't answered it.”  
   Gromm tapped her forehead lightly, far more gently than his mother ever did. “The answer is here. You will find it, _surrah_. Perhaps in your dreams.”  
   Ealishe should have objected to being touched. She knew she should. The thing that bothered her more than the contact was the context of it. Why did it feel as though he saw her as nothing more than a child? But then, why did she care?  
   She turned to the eunuch and raised her arms. At the moment, she felt like a child, having to be carried everywhere.  
   It did not help her self-esteem to have the vile potion administered again. She would be put to sleep for the third time in a single day.  
    _Though I suppose it is probably nighttime by now,_ she mused.  
   “How much longer must I drink this stuff?” she asked, trying not to sound like a petulant child.  
   “You may ask the Healer in the morning, My Lady.”  
   She scowled, but dutifully choked it down.


	12. Magi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gromm has to report to his superiors, but will they believe him?

Gromm was allowed to fall asleep naturally, not that she would ever be told. Aldus could not understand it, but the half-orc was nearly recovered. Further use of the numbing agent would, in his opinion, do more harm than good.  
   “I am willing to concede that something in your blood makes you resistant to neural collapse. What I am _not_ prepared to accept is the Elder’s rate of recovery. She should not have been conscious until tomorrow, at the earliest.  
   “I am also unwilling to believe that someone as experienced as yourself triggered Backlash, in the first place. Exactly how _did_ that happen?  
   Gromm could not lie, but he did not know how much he was permitted to disclose; particularly to someone who wasn't an Oracle. He supposed the short answer would have to suffice, because a similar situation might arise later. It would need to be noted in the records for future generations.  
   “I was asked to form a bridge from Ealishe to Kaia. She has not the patience for Communion, yet there was vital information that needed to be relayed.”  
   Aldus was white with shock. “Such a thing has never occurred before,” he stammered.  
   “Aye, I know. As to her recovery, I can only assume that my body bore the brunt of the Crystalburn. Were I a lesser man, it might have been the death of me.”  
   Aldus was silent for a time. He was recalling the man who sired Gromm, and his obsession with creating the strongest hybrid Oracle possible. Had he known something that no one else did? Whether he did or not, he'd succeeded in doing what he set out to do.  
   He clapped the younger man on the shoulder. “Then I am heartily glad you are the man you are.” He turned to leave, then spun on his heel and asked if Gromm remembered the Prophecy.  
   The broad shoulders of the younger man slumped, as if a great weight had been dropped on them.  
   “Aye, we all do.”  
   The way he said it eased Aldus’ mind. He knew the signs. He ought to; Grandfather was the one who taught them both.  
   “Be certain that you heed the Omens. Are you sure you don't want something to help you sleep? Tomorrow is a big day.”  
   Gromm threw a muscular forearm over his eyes and groaned. In all the fuss, he'd forgotten.  
   “As much as I've slept today, aye. I'll take one o’ yer vile brews.”  
   Aldus took no offense. He was accustomed to having his treatments reviled. None could deny that they worked, but all despised them until the following day.  
   Because he was a second cousin, Aldus took pity on him, and again mixed it with ale. It was a human vintage this time, but Gromm didn't seem to mind.  
   “Good night, and good luck on the morrow,” he said in parting. He did not wait to see if the draught took hold. He was confident that it would work, even on a hearty half-orc. He'd seen that particular potion fell an ogre.  
   Gromm would need all the luck he could get tomorrow. He was being assigned his very first Initiate.  
    _Maybe I'll get lucky, and the Magi will rule that today's incident means that I am not ready,_ he thought without much hope.

   The next morning, he stood in front of the Revered Magi. His cousin felt it his duty to inform them of the incident, of course. As their Healer, his reputation was paramount. If he failed to report such an event, his career could be in jeopardy.  
   “Exactly how did you come to form a bridge between our brand-new Elder--who hasn't even been coronated yet--and Kaia? If you’ve upset either of them…”  
   “It was at Kaia’s request, Honored One.” Gromm spoke quietly into the void after the trailing threat.  
   Robes rustled and whispers hissed. Grand Magus Horus’ voice cut through the commotion like a knife.  
   “Why would Kaia ask this of a mere Vanguard Oracle?”  
   Gromm bowed his great head. “I do not know. Would you have me relate the events in sequence, so that your eminent minds may try to fathom it?” He flattered them unashamedly, tasting bile in the back of his throat.  
   It was true that an Oracle could not lie. If they so much as skirted the truth, foul smells, or tastes, assaulted them. Gromm had a fair idea why he'd been charged with the task, but to say so would be impolitic. None of the older men wanted to hear about his superior strength and willpower. They did not care if his stamina was higher than theirs. All of these stuffy old Magi believed that the number of years one served Kaia equaled the ability to control the Communion. While it did require years of dedication to the craft, after a certain point, it relied on the character of the person. A weak-willed person would be good for nothing beyond knowing when a Crystal required more of a certain element, or whether a home was improperly placed.  
   It took an exceptionally strong mind--and body--to Commune with Kaia Herself. Otherwise, you only Saw part of Her. Gromm was one of a very few who could See all of Kaia. He could actually Hear Her Voice.  
   That was what these Magi did not believe. Few, if any, of them had ever Heard Kaia Speak. Perhaps they thought She could not Communicate by way of anything but the images and impressions they’d received all their lives. None of them even seemed to know Kaia was female.  
   So he told them everything.


	13. Unpleasant Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will anyone believe what Gromm has to say?

“She cannot be an Oracle! No Elder has ever been an Oracle!”  
   Revered Magi Rashi, who rarely spoke, cut across the cacophony of her brethren. “You all know what this means.”  
   Her voice, low though it was, vibrated off the multitude of Crystals in the Magi Temple Sanctum. It was a technique she used quite effectively with rambunctious Initiates. The outraged Magi subsided, albeit reluctantly.  
   Yes, they knew what it meant, but none wanted to voice it. They all had families, and comfortable homes close to the Elder’s Quarters. The Great Collapse meant change, uncertainty. If Kaia were failing, where would they live? How would they survive?  
   Magi Rashi asked Gromm if he had yet interpreted the information from Kaia.  
   Head still bowed, he regretfully informed them that he was not permitted to disclose what he had learned. Chaos erupted again, each Magi shouting over the other.  
   “All I may do is guide the Elder,” he said when calm eventually returned. “She received the same visions as I. She does not, however, have the skill to separate one from another.”  
   Grand Magus Horus stood. “It seems clear what must be done. We will, of course, discuss the matter at length--”  
   “Ad nauseum,” someone muttered behind him.  
   “But,” he continued doggedly, “it seems that Kaia has taken the decision out of our hands. If the Magi can agree, it would appear that the new Elder…” he paused for Gromm to supply her name. “Ealishe, is it? Well, then, Elder Ealishe is to be your first Initiate.”  
   Gromm suppressed a groan. No trace of his dismay showed as he bowed himself out of the Sanctum. He'd hoped to delay being assigned _any_ Initiate, and they drop _her_ on him?  
   His footsteps were heavy as he made his way to his room in the Novitiate Quarters in the dormitory. He changed his clothes, weary in mind, if not body. He washed his face, lathered his beard, and briefly contemplated shaving it. Taking an Initiate was always time-consuming, but the Elder?  
   In the end, orc pride would not let him shave his tribal status symbol. He would soon be a Mystic, now that he'd been given an Initiate. He must look the part.  
_Plus, the beard makes me look older. She'll have to take me seriously, and I look like a cub without it._  
   He resolutely rinsed his beard, and unbound some of the looser braids. He would braid them later, when they were dry.  
    _Why, oh why, did it have to be_ her? He stared at his reflection in the tiny mirror morosely. _Why couldn't they assign me Pietro, or even Lissa?_ The one person he wanted the most distance from was the one he was being bound to.  
   He could petition the Magi to be reassigned, but he would need a fetching good reason. He couldn't very well say that he was attracted to her. He shouldn't even admit that to himself. Not that it would make his life easier if he denied it, but it might make _her_ life easier.  
   Gromm stayed in his room all that day, except for meals. He rationalized it as waiting for the official ruling. In truth, he was avoiding his new Initiate. Grand Magus Horus was correct: Kaia had Chosen. The Magi would unanimously agree to assign her to him. Who were they to disagree with the Being that surrounded and sustained them?

   Ealishe wanted nothing more than to pace. It frustrated her to be confined to the bed, comfortable though it was. She refused the medicine that the Healer tried to make her drink.  
   “Whatever this ‘Backlash’ is, it doesn't hurt anymore. Just because I'm a little unsteady on my feet doesn't mean I need to drink more of that… _drek_.”  
   “Fine. You are to rest for all of today. I will return tomorrow, and _if_ you are able to stand, you will be allowed _light_ activity. I do not want to dose you with a sleeping draught, but I will if I must.”  
   Ealishe resisted the urge to cross her arms and scowl. She could just hear what Gromm would have to say, if she did.  
   Speaking of which, where was he?  
   “So, how is that Oracle doing? He hasn't been in to bother me today.”  
   Aldus put his tools away, assiduously avoiding meeting her eyes. “I believe he was called before the Magi this morning.”  
   She slumped back against the pillows. “Oh.”  
   She didn't know why she was so disappointed to learn that he'd left without so much as a by-your-leave. He'd done nothing but annoy her since she was Chosen.  
   “Will he return?” she asked, careful to keep her voice neutral.  
   Aldus glanced at her, wondering how much to tell her. “He did offer to help you unravel your dreams, as they pertain to Kaia, but I do not know how much time he will have for it.”  
   Ealishe sat forward in dismay. “Why not?”  
   Aldus suppressed a smile that she would only misinterpret. “He is being assigned his first Initiate today. They will grant him the rank of Mystic, once the Initiate becomes a Novice. Perhaps then, he will have the time.” He watched her out of the corner of his eye to gauge her reaction.  
   She deflated. “How long does _that_ take?”  
   He stroked his short, pointed beard. “Oh, a couple of years, typically. But you've got centuries left in you, so it's nothing to wait, eh?”  
   She scowled. There was nothing she could say that wouldn't sound childish, and she knew it. She changed the subject.  
   “I should like something to do while I am stuck here.”  
   The infernal man stood and walked out the door. He paused on his way out to relay her request to the ever-present Zezu.  
    _Great, tell the_ mute _that I'm bored. That’ll work!_  
   The dark eunuch left with Aldus, returned shortly with several books. Ealishe was thrilled, until she saw the titles. She groaned. Zezu gave her a Look before resuming his post. In that stare, she read his meaning quite clearly: “You're the Elder now, so you'd better know your history.”  
   Though the words were not spoken, they echoed in the brightly-colored confines of her bedchamber. She sighed heavily, but dutifully opened the first volume.


	14. The Brood Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meron visits the place he met his sapphire enchantress, but there's a surprise in store for him.

Meron creaked reluctantly to his feet. He knew that he must eat soon, or he would pay with a thumping migraine. He didn't want to visit the Brood Palace in anything less than perfect health.  
   He put on his shoes, vowing to bathe and change after breakfast. Because the Inn was outside the Wall, his bath would be steaming hot. His food was equally hot, something one usually had to do without inside the Wall. _Unless your host is a mage, or has a house mage. I only know of a handful of mages beyond the Wall, though._  
   Always one to appreciate luxury of any kind, Meron savored the common food as if it were gourmet fare. In a society where fire was forbidden beyond the Wall, even sausages fried in their own juices were haute cuisine.  
   He thanked the innkeeper, winked at Bess, and went upstairs to get a change of robes. Full and reasonably awake, he headed for the bath house.  
   The proprietor waved him into a steamy room, waited for him to hand his soiled robe out to him. This was a rarity: a full-service bath house. The proprietor’s husband washed his clothes while he soaked. If he weren't set on arriving clean and freshly-garbed, he could have walked out wearing the clothes he'd worn in.  
   There was even a hairdresser in the Sky Market next door. He kept his hair short, however, due to the nature of his work. The tiny tail at the base of his skull required negligible maintenance.  
   He lowered his lean frame into the hot bath, wincing when it sloshed over his raw forearms. A trickle of blood seeped into the clean water, but he was too content to notice. He lay back with a long, drawn-out sigh.  
   Meron thought about the lovely maid that surely awaited his return. It had taken him several days to gain entry to the Brood Palace, and many embarrassingly rigorous examinations. When the ladies were arrayed for his perusal, the tall lass with the blue skin and hair stood out. She was the tallest of the girls in current circulation; taller than him by three digits.  
   She wasn't the only Crystal-Born, but he found the green hue of the girl beside her off-putting, and the red hair on the girl closest to him was jarring next to her pale blue skin.  
   There were some elves, but he found them too thin for his liking. The human ladies were lovely, but he'd come here for variety. No, the blue giantess was the one he wanted.  
   He found their lowered eyes less than enchanting, but he was assured that this maintained his anonymity. The penalty for making eye contact was severe, but he was not enlightened beyond that.  
   He was led by the silent sapphire beauty into an opulent room decorated in saffron. The rich yellow hue complemented her skin artfully. The thin garment that concealed her figure shifted in alluring patterns. He had to be asked twice if he would like her to play something on the harp that stood as high as his chest.  
   “Why not? I have a wide range of musical preferences. Why don't we try a song of your people? I've not yet had the pleasure.”  
   The song she played was as fluid and graceful as her hands upon the strings. It brought to mind oceans and aquatic animals, the way the melody twined around the ear.  
   He could still hear the siren song, sitting in his cooling bath. He drew designs on the surface of the water while more intimate memories swam through his mind. She was skilled, as promised, and as detached as one expected a courtesan to be. The horns and tail proved to be less of a hindrance than he'd thought they would be. In fact, the tail was surprisingly… nimble.  
   If he were the man he was when he left five years ago, he might have blushed at the memory of some of the things they'd done.  
   Monk Meron Kurai was a shadow of the man who left. He hauled his leaden limbs out of the water and carefully dabbed the fresh wounds dry. The rest of his body was roughly whisked with little thought. He donned the clean robes, his sandals, and holy paraphernalia, and left the suddenly oppressive warmth before sweat could mar the layered vestments.  
   He passed through the Gate easily. The Guardians recognized him from the day before, so he was waved through. He could hear the dwarf behind him being directed to the customs quarantine, because his pet wolf didn't have clearance to enter. He knew how vital it was to be sure that outside diseases didn't get into such a closed ecosystem, but the dwarf didn't sound like he did.  
   “I'm a druid, ye big blue idiot! If he was sick, dontcha think I'd _know_ it?!”  
   “If you are truly a druid, you will understand the care we must…”  
   Meron didn't hear the rest of the sentence. He'd merged with the traffic on the main causeway, both foot and sled. The smells and sights welcomed him to this multi-faceted haven like a lover's arms.  
   Homes squatted close to the ground, adorned with crystals of varying sizes and colors. You could gauge a person's wealth by how well the crystals matched. Poorer homes had holes in their roof or walls where a crystal had crumbled, while middle-class ones sported several different colors. One had to find, or grow, a crystal that fit the empty socket, and in less affluent areas, color was a secondary concern.  
   Sleds came in different sizes, too. There were personal carts, farm carts, and transportation sleds. They were said to be magical, though he'd never seen evidence of it. He could not account for the way they went wherever you asked, but he sensed no magic upon them. Perhaps they utilized golems, or elementals.  
   He hailed a passenger sled, feeling slightly silly, but it bobbed over to him of its own volition. He climbed aboard the round, boxy contraption and requested to be brought to the Brood Palace.  
   Though there was a hitch in the rhythm of the thing, it wobbled obligingly toward the western edge of the Cavern. He didn't know why, but the halting motion of the sled made him feel sorry for making it carry him.  
   When he reached the Brood Palace, he talked to the thing. He wasn't sure if it would obey, but he told it to go back to the station, or wherever it spent the night.  
   “You need maintenance. Go see the mage who made you, or whatever, and have them take a look under the frame, okay?”  
   It bobbed once and teetered toward a building not far away. He watched to make sure it got there alright. It wobbled around the garden between the buildings, almost reached the sliding doors before it crumpled.  
   Meron started toward it, but a veritable swarm of Crystal-Born and kin bubbled out of the doors and carried it inside.  
   He let out a sigh of relief, turned back and knocked on the door of the Brood Palace.  
   Here, too, were eunuchs. He always found it odd that a society that did not believe in castration should make use of those who were already castrated. They billed this place as a refuge for the misunderstood, like a pansexual dwarf, or a mage who married his golem, and yet the Crystal-Born themselves did not practice polygamy or bestiality. _Would that be bestiality?_ he wondered.  
   There was a much wider scope to Crystalsong Caverns, but Meron was the sort of man who focused on the carnal. This made him one of the aforementioned misunderstood persons; particularly among the clergy.  
   “We have waited ages for you to return, monk. It will please you to know that your last visit was a success.”  
   He turned to face the Doma with a pleasant smile. “I would like to think so,” he said without pride.  
   “I have sent for your _samii_. Would you like refreshments while you wait?”  
   Meron wasn't familiar with the term, but he nodded graciously. He sat in the boneless chair offered, more of a ball than the traditional straight-backed affair seen Above.  
   There he sat, sipping _jaja_ , when a eunuch entered the room carrying a thrashing bundle of fabric. It was carefully placed on his lap before the eunuch hastily retreated.  
   Meron’s brow furrowed. He sorted bottom from top, wondering what strange creature they'd gifted him with. Whatever it was, it had sharp claws and a tail.  
   When he discovered an opening in the fabric, he reached through and grasped what felt like a horn. Gently, for he did not know the nature of the beast, he tugged the head free of the… _dress?!_  
   What popped out of the neck hole was a disheveled, furious toddler. It--she?--glared up at him with blazing violet eyes, set in porcelain azure skin. Her hair was a dark blue, nearly as dark as his own hair. In fact, her eyes were the same color as his, aside from the glow .  
   “I see,” he said slowly. “ _Samii_ must mean ‘daughter’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this had been Miroku, he would've gotten what he always wanted... sort of. I cackle with glee every time I picture his expression at the end there.


	15. Parenthood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meron has to figure out what to do with his daughter, now that he's got her.

The Doma took a step forward, hands clasped anxiously. “Apologies, monk. Would you have preferred a _sami?_ We cannot guarantee gender, only results. Surely, you understand this.”  
   Meron was all too certain that he did understand. He hadn't paid such a high price to bed one of their precious Crystal-Born, which to his knowledge could only be found in Crystalsong Caverns.  
   He had paid for the privilege of siring a child by one.  
   Meron looked down at the tiny child with new eyes. Her eyes weren't as wide as her mother's, her skin a shade paler, but for the most part, she was a miniature version of a woman he would never forget.  
   As offspring went, he could have done far worse.  
   “No, I think I prefer her as she is.”  
   To his surprise, his daughter lashed out with her foot and caught his arm in precisely the worst place. He clutched it, trying to keep it from bleeding again, and stared at the rebellious girl.  
   The Doma rushed forward, apologizing profusely. “I am most sorry, monk Meron. Usually, the _samyii_ are removed from their _damii_ immediately. This one has had the misfortune to remain with her _dami_ for too long. I am afraid she might not be as… receptive as we would like.”  
   Meron gestured dismissively. “It was unfortunate, but necessary. There was a demonic outbreak, and--”  
   “You are wounded! Hsst! Look what you've done, _disi!_ ”  
   He looked down at his hand, saw the stain he'd thought to conceal. “No, good lady, ‘twas not the child who wounded me. It was a demon, just yesterday. It will mend. No damage done, I assure you.”  
   The Doma eyed him with new respect. “See how strong your father is? Do you not wish to live with him, perhaps learn his ways?”  
   The child was apparently too well-trained to leave his lap, but she glared mutinously at the Doma. She hadn't missed the blood on her father's hand, but why should she care? He was trying to take her away from her _dami_ , so she'd decided she hated him.  
   The pale stranger asked what her name was. The mean lady told him she didn't have one. Her _dami_ was not permitted to name her, because she belonged to this man. Yes, she hated him.  
   He looked down at her with her own eyes. It was strange to her. Her dami had a dark blue ring around the pupil, and she'd begun wondering where she got her eyes. His hair was darker than hers, and seemed to be straight like hers. Dami had slightly wavy hair, so she thought hers would crinkle as she got older.  
   “What do you think about the name Zara?”  
   The child wrinkled her nose in distaste.  
   “Okay, how about Mimuri?”  
   The blue-black hair flew in a negative head shake. He seemed to think some more. It amazed her that he would allow her to choose her own name. Here, she had no freedom. She'd never even been allowed outside!  
   “I know!” He tugged playfully on a lock of hair. Play was also something she was unfamiliar with, but she giggled despite herself. “How about Lili?”  
   Part of her wanted to keep saying no, just to prolong the game, but the look on his face told her that this name was special to him. She didn't know why, but she wanted to make him a little happy. Not too happy, because he was taking her away forever, but a little happy.  
   She stuck one tiny talon in her mouth and shrugged. It was as close as he would get to agreement. He seemed to know that.  
   “Right then Lili, shall we say goodbye to your mother?”  
   Lili didn't know what that word meant, so she shrugged again.  
   The mean lady told him that they couldn't see her _dami_ ever again. She said something like confer dental itty, but she didn't know what that meant either. All she heard was “no more _dami_ ”.  
   Lili started screaming and kicking, fully expecting her _dami_ to come tell her she was making a fuss. Surely, if she screamed loud enough, _dami_ would come!  
   But _dami_ did not come. The mean lady gave her a sound thump on the bottom, which she was used to. She was stunned into silence when the stranger yelled at her for it.  
   “Is she not my child? Is it not my responsibility to discipline her?” Meron did not yell, though it sounded that way to the child. Rather, his voice rang out with authority earned on the battlefield with his own blood.  
   The Doma backed away, eyes downcast. “Yes, Monk Meron.”  
   Wanting to impress his daughter, he informed the woman that in the years he'd been away, he had achieved the rank of High Monk.  
   The Doma bowed in a low _situ_. “We are honored to serve such a wise, noble one such as you. Your patronage will bring us great renown.” Her reason for resorting to flattery was twofold: She hoped to cover her lapse in spanking the child. She also wanted the girl to see her father as the sort of person she wanted to be around.  
   High Monk Meron was wise enough to read between the lines. He nodded to the woman and stood to take his leave. Blood trickled on the floor, but the Doma would leave it there. It was proof that the High Monk had indeed graced their establishment.  
   Meron walked out the door, after the pleasantries were exchanged. He knew that he would need another bath, and his bindings changed. He was too tired to fetch another set of clothing from his room, so he set out for the nearest bathhouse inside the Wall. There was a laundress near enough that he might be able to persuade the owner to run his robes across the way. Fortunately, he could afford the one that was heated by magic. He did not look forward to trying to bathe himself and a toddler in icy water, no matter how bracing the locals claimed it to be.  
   Meron was stumbling by the time he reached the bathhouse. He hadn't seen a sled to carry them, or he would have spared his dwindling reserves.  
   Lili stared around her with awe, having never left the confines of the Brood Palace in her first four years of life. The ceiling was so _high!_ She doubted anyone could touch it without flying. The walls were so far away that she could only see one side of the vast cavern, and not for very long.  
   Strange creatures walked everywhere, on two legs and four. One of them sort of looked like the bird that Mira kept in a gilded cage; except it walked funny, and she was pretty sure it glared at her. Several skittered about her… father's feet, barely higher than his knee. She didn't know if they were full-grown, or younglings like herself. She even saw a kitty like Serah had, except it walked on two legs. There were short, stubby people, tall, thin people, and people in between. There were pets that she'd never seen before.  
   When they entered the bathhouse, she squirmed and whimpered. She knew what sort of place _this_ was, and she wanted none of it!  
   Meron held onto his daughter with both hands while he haggled with the owner. She took pity on him when she saw the blood stains on the poor child's dress.  
   “Quite a little handful, aren't you? What have you done to your poor daddy?”  
   Meron shook his head ruefully. “You're not the first to assume that, good lady. Her struggles merely aggravated a work-related injury. If you have the supplies, I should like to tend my wounds in the bath.”  
   The elderly elf twinkled at him. “I'll do you one better, lad. I'll Heal ‘em myself.”  
   He smiled his most charming smile. “You are welcome to try, but these are sacrifices to my goddess in return for purging a demon.”  
   The twinkle was replaced by grave sadness. “A hefty price, indeed. Well, I've at least got a salve that should help.”  
   He bowed as low as possible while holding a squirming child. “That I shall accept, with many thanks,” he said.  
   He carried Lili into the bathing chamber and stripped them both. She was no longer struggling, which he was grateful for. The old elf came in with towels and salve shortly after.  
   She froze when she saw Meron’s arms.  
   He, of course, took it as modesty. He picked Lili up and ducked under the warm water.  
   “Apologies, good woman. I did not realize you were so prompt.”  
   Her arm reached out, as if to touch the angry red welts. He ducked them under the water.  
   “Please, I beg you not to touch them. That goes for you too, Lili.” He tilted her tiny head up to make sure she understood. “These hurt daddy, okay? Please don't touch.”  
   The proprietress heeded his words, and even the rebellious toddler nodded. The younger was amazed that someone who could make the mean lady stop could also be hurt by a tap on the arm.  
   “Seven lashes…”  
   Meron’s head shot up. “What was that?”  
   The elderly elf dropped on the stool, towels on her lap. “The man who banished the demon inside my great granddaughter took seven lashes for it.”  
   Meron looked away from the moisture in the pale green eyes. He took up soap sand and began bathing his daughter. He did not comment when the water went from tepid to steaming, though Lili squealed happily and splashed erratically.  
   “Thank you,” the elf said. He looked her in the eye and nodded, but said nothing. For all his peccadilloes, he was an honorable monk.  
   For Lili’s part, she was so busy enjoying a hot bath that she ignored the adults entirely. She used far too much soap sand, both on herself, and her father's hairy legs. He said she couldn't touch his arms, but the concept of hair on something other than a head was fascinating. She swirled the sand in little circles and patterns, watching it catch in the tiny follicles.  
   Finally, she looked up his long torso, also sprinkled with hair, and asked “Daddy, why don't you have scales?” She patted caked sand into his chest hair with wet slaps.  
   The furry chest bounced with laughter. She looked up, wide violet eyes innocent.  
   “I don't have scales because I was born Above. I'm human.”  
   Her pretty blue brow puckered. “Human? Like Serah?”  
   “I'm afraid I don't know who Serah is, poppet.”  
   Lili assumed _everybody_ knew who Serah was! She was the most popular _damii_ at the Palace!  
   “She's got light blonde hair, big blue eyes--for a human--and really big tetas. Good for milk, you know?”  
   Meron laughed so hard that she almost fell of his lap.  
   When he could speak, he told her that he'd only been to the Brood Palace once. “I don't remember anyone who looked like that. Sorry, sweetling.” He smiled indulgently down at her. “I'm not sure we should talk about tetas, either.”  
   Big lavender eyes stared guilelessly up at him. She was still patting soap sand into his chest hair.  
   “But why? Without milk, babies don't grow up.”  
   Meron covered one of her chubby hands briefly. “It's not polite to talk about what's under people's clothing,” he said carefully. He wasn't sure how to make a toddler understand the nuances of society.  
   Lili tugged on a fistful of chest hair, imitating his playful gesture as best she could.  
   “Ouch! Gently, poppet.”  
   Her brows knit, head tilted. How had he done it? She reached up and pinched some of his hair between her fingers. She worked it out of the small tail and bobbed the liberated lock in the air like a rattle. She giggled and wiggled, flapping her little arm for all she was worth.  
   Meron chuckled. “That's better, yes. How about we wash the rest of you now, okay?”  
   Lili stood between her father's legs while he gently scrubbed her backside, and sturdy little legs. She hadn't let go of his hair, but he didn't mind. It made her happy, and it didn't cause him pain.  
   He leaned forward, tipping her back, until her hair floated in the warm water. She didn't like being backwards, but when he massaged shampoo into her hair, she relaxed against the long fingers that supported her back and neck.  
   It was difficult to wash hair that he couldn't see properly, because she had a death grip on a lock of his hair. He chalked it up to the nature of parenthood and soldiered on.  
   When he was reasonably certain that he'd removed all of the shampoo, he sat straight. Her limp body went with him, her tiny chin resting on his shoulder. He craned his neck to look at her, worried at the sudden lack of response, but he needn't have worried.  
   Lili was fast asleep.


	16. Braids and Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ealishe tries to work through the information Kaia gifted her with. Plus, you know, some hair braiding happens.

Gromm sat on a bench, deep in thought. The evening meal was quiet, as always, but much whispered speculation shushed across the dining hall. Had he bothered to look, many eyes turned his way throughout. Oracles were not prone to gossip, but their lives had changed drastically in the past day.  
   News of the Elder Oracle had spread quickly, though it did not leave the Oracle Dormitories. They knew to leave the proclamation of her existence to the Magi, and in truth, none envied them the task.  
   No one dared question Gromm, though it was common knowledge that it was he who found her. Some feared his size, while others envied his skill. Most simply thought him taciturn, remote. Oracles are, by nature, quiet and still, but Gromm was exceedingly so.  
   He retired to his room to meditate, unaware that the murmur behind him abruptly grew to a babble.  
   On his bedside table was a note. Oracles did not make grand proclamations. Everything was done calmly, and with forethought. He would not be publicly declared the Elder’s Kindred. No, this brief note was his appointment to the position.

**“We have discussed the issue at hand, and a consensus was reached. She is to be your new Initiate.”**

   Just like that, his world was turned upside down.

   Ealishe set the heavy tome down and pinched her nasal bridge. Her eyes watered, and her attention had strayed more often in the past quarter hour than she could tolerate. She wasn't going to retain anything else she read.  
   “I am finished, for now. My mind is mush. I should like something to eat.” She didn't look at the dark eunuch. Her eyes were closed, and besides, he was even more still than Gromm. It bothered her, that stillness. It was like talking to statues.  
   Zezu tapped the door in the pattern that she was learning translated as a request for food. He used a different knock when the chamberpot needed to emptied. The other eunuch used a more complicated knock to admit the Captain of the Sovereign Guard this morning. She presumed there was an entire system of taps and knocks, which made sense. If he could not speak, how else would he communicate her needs?  
   Ealishe was brought a tray, as she had been all day. They seemed to be taking bed rest quite literally. A slight wrinkle of her brow ridge was all that betrayed her ire. She was getting better at controlling her emotions, but she didn't enjoy having to do so.  
   The Captain had tested her new skills considerably: questioning her Oracle status, bemoaning her youth, and outright mothering her. She already _had_ a mother, and Lyesha hadn't enjoyed being told as much. She'd been polite but firm, and the older woman left, deep in thought.  
   She picked at the food, lost in thought. What she'd read didn't make sense. The books spoke of a Great Tantalus. She knew that the proper name for her home was Tantalus Cavern, but she'd assumed it to be a geographical name. The lore seemed to be referring instead to a being of some sort. Something ancient.  
  _Could they be talking about Kaia?_ she wondered. She never doubted Kaia’s existence. Hearing Her Speak through Gromm only confirmed her belief. _Does She live in the walls? Is She part of the Crystals? Is She the mountain that the cavern is carved from? What_ is _She?_  
   Ealishe gradually slid down the pillows, nearly upsetting the tray. Zezu whisked it away and set it on the table.  
    _She's nearly fallen asleep in her supper,_ he thought with some amusement. _Perhaps she will find enlightenment in her dreams._  
   He had given her more than the books that schoolchildren received. One of the books was rare; one of a kind, in fact. It was a detailed, handwritten account of their history, from the time of Landing. He gave it to every Elder when they were Chosen.  
   A rough, hesitant knock disturbed his reflection. He opened the door to admit the half-orc Oracle. He gestured toward the bed to show the boy that he was too late to speak with her.  
   “I won't disturb her, then. I came to tell her that I've been assigned Her Ladyship as my new Initiate.”  
   If Zezu had brows to speak of, they would have arched toward his hairline. His browline conveyed surprise that he did not truly feel.  
   Gromm scrubbed a hand down his face. “I'll be back in the--”  
   Ealishe began thrashing about in the bed. Both men watched her for a time, uncertain what to do. Eventually, an elbow in his back reminded Gromm that he was supposed to be the one helping her with dreams. He sighed clear down to his toes. He didn't want to touch her. He knew he would have to. His only consolation was the dark, silent eunuch’s presence.  
   He approached the bed with leaden feet. Hesitant to put any part of his body on the mattress, he clapped a hand on her thin shoulder.  
   She came awake in an instant, arms flailing. She clipped him across the ear, but he took no offense. He captured her hands, body still held as far away as possible.  
   “It was a dream, My Lady. Wake and join us.” He did not shout, for which she was grateful, but the quiet voice rumbled through her bones. He released her hands and stood straight.  
   Still caught up in the dream, she lunged and clung to the stable rock by her bed. She could still see walls crumbling all around her, hear the screams when they struck the ground.  
   Gromm stood rigidly, arms in the air above her head. He pleaded silently with the eunuch, who merely shrugged. What could he do?  
   The half-orc didn't know what to do with a crying woman. He'd been all but raised in the Oracle Dormitory, and it wasn't like his mother ever wept. He had no sisters, no frame of reference. He'd been too young when his father left for him to have taught him how to behave with women. All he'd said on the subject was to treat them with respect.  
   He clumsily patted her back, keeping his hands in clear sight of Zezu. He avoided touching her wings, aside from straightening one that had become kinked in her sleep. He stood there, looking anywhere but at her, for what felt like hours. It was only a matter of minutes, but it felt like an eternity.  
   Eventually, the tears and shaking slowed, ceased. She leaned back against the pillows, emotionally spent. Zezu set a chair behind Gromm, who dropped into it gratefully.  
   “Would you care to talk about it?”  
   She shuddered, looking small and vulnerable in the big bed. “Shards… everywhere… People screaming, ceiling falling…” Another shiver shook her thin frame. He awkwardly patted the hand nearest him.  
   “I don't know if it will help, knowing what it was, but you've seen the Great Collapse.”  
   Her cheeks faded to periwinkle. She looked about to be sick, but she refrained admirably. Most who were gifted--or cursed, depending on the viewpoint--with a Vision of the Great Collapse were violently ill. She'd spared him that fate when she touched his tear-streaked cheek. He saved her, just by being the immutable force that he was.  
   She chafed her arms, rumpled the fabric of her rose-colored nightdress. Her hair twirled wildly about her horns, tangled between her wings. Gromm decided to do something about it. He'd seen female Oracles braiding each other's hair, how it seemed to be a pleasant, and more importantly, _calming_ experience.  
   He looked in the drawer of the table next to him, found the hairbrush among paraphernalia he could not identify. He gently turned her by the shoulders, mindful of propriety.  
   She sniffed once, in surprise. “You're going to brush my hair?” She half turned to look at him.  
   He tapped her nose, then turned her firmly around. He always combed his beard from the bottom to the top, so he assumed that was the way to approach her hair, as well.  
   He pulled a hank of hair away from her back and began running the soft bristles through the softer tresses. He was careful not to strike her wings. The long emerald strands wrapped around his arm, the tiny wings, and her horns, no matter how much care he took.  
   “I don't suppose you have hair ties?” he asked.  
   She looked over her shoulder, tangling a section he'd just straightened. “Why?”  
   He resolutely untangled her hair again. “Your wings keep getting caught in your hair. I believe that braids will fix that problem.”  
   “Oh. Well, I don't think anyone has been to Mother's house to retrieve my belongings. Maybe you could ask the eunuchs?”  
   Zezu was fighting a smile as he retrieved a box of tiny, ornate hair ties from a cupboard near his post. By the time he'd fetched it, his face was as bland as ever.  
   Ealishe gazed in wonder at the delicate creations. “I can't wear those to bed,” she said with genuine regret.  
   Gromm took the box and set it on the table. “If there are no plain ones in this box, you can be sure that your predecessor did just that.”  
   Quite as though his word were final, he began the slow process of creating skinny braids throughout her forest of hair. The brush whisked hairs where he needed them, sending shivers of a different sort down her spine.  
   Gromm focused on her hair, doing his utmost not to stare at the back that was all but bare. Her nightdress was cut low in back, to accommodate her fledgling wings. A single tie at her nape was all that held it up. He kept his hands as far from it as possible, for fear of knocking it loose.  
   Ealishe should have been lulled back to sleep by his gentle ministrations, but she was too aware that he was a strong, virile man. If it had been a woman braiding her hair with such attentiveness, she would have drifted off to sleep.  
   When he was finished, he set the brush aside with a definitive clack. She looked over her shoulder, beads clicking with the motion.  
   “Am I done?” she asked huskily.  
   His gut clenched, but he schooled his face into a mask of politeness. “Aye, milady.”  
   One of her hands unexpectedly reached for his beard. His head jerked back reflexively.  
   “Some of your braids have come undone,” she said defensively.  
   “I know. I bathed. I will braid it later.”  
   She looked up at him through her lashes coyly. “Or I could do it for you.” She rushed on before he could decline. “You were ever so kind as to do my hair. I can but return the favor, in thanks.”  
   They heard a strangled sound from the corner near the door, and both blushed. Zezu was trying not to laugh at them.


	17. Lodging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gromm is abruptly homeless.

Gromm rumbled unhappily. He didn't want her to feel foolish in front of her personal servant, but he did not relish prolonged contact.  
   “Oh fine, but make it quick. I would like to seek my bed soon.”  
   She squealed and clapped her hands. She swung around, braids clacking, nightgown tangling about her knees. She took up the brush, but it was too wide to untangle the hair between braids. He told her there was a comb in the drawer.  
   Ealishe snatched it up and tackled his beard with comedic concentration on her face. Given no other option, he studied that face while she worked.  
   Her features were set triangular in the wide skull of a Trueblood. The high, side-swept “wings” of her cheekbones were dusted with royal purple freckles. They didn't jut too far out above her lower jaw, in his opinion. The two little horns on her chin were on the small side, for a pure-blooded Crystal-Born, but she was young. The two backward-curving horns would grow longer, as well. For now, they barely cleared her mass of emerald waves. Her brow ridge was one smooth, graceful sweep from temple to temple. Her nasal area wasn't as pronounced as some he'd seen. In some Crystal-Born and hybrids, himself included, it stood out as far as a catkin’s muzzle. Instead, her nose and mouth formed a dainty moue. Her nostril slits were barely visible in the nasal bump.  
   All in all, it was a pleasant face to behold. Her large, oval eyes scrunched as she focused on the delicate task of braiding such relatively short hair.  
   Ealishe was equally fascinated by his face. His cheekbones were merely pointed. There was no wing to it at all. His chin horns were wider than hers, if not a trifle longer. His proper horns twisted, which she'd never seen before. He had a full muzzle, which was more common in males, but it was made more intimidating by the short tusks that curved at each corner of his mouth. The beard wasn't coarse, like she expected. It wasn't as soft or silky as her hair, but it was… pleasant. She could only guess if his long, auburn braid was the same texture. His skin was a grayish blue, which was not a color found in Truebloods. His father must have been blue-skinned, judging from his mother's ashen complexion.  
   Half-bloods always fascinated her. Her people did not have color in their eyes. Gromm had a band of warm brown around his pupils, which she rather envied. It meant that he wasn't trapped Below.  
   Her braids weren't as intricate as the rest of his beard, but she'd used the pretty little beads from the box. He didn't seem to mind.  
   In truth, he hadn't noticed yet. He was inspecting his handiwork from the front, now. He was satisfied with how flat the braids sat against her skull. If he'd mastered the more complex form of braiding, he could have curved the braids around her horns. Alas, he'd never had the time to perfect the technique.  
   Seeing that she was finished braiding the dark brown beard, Zezu set the tray at the foot of the bed.  
   Forcibly reminded that they were not alone, Ealishe sat back against the pillows and nibbled on her supper some more. Gromm stood to take his leave. Zezu hadn't moved out of his path, which brought to mind his reason for coming.  
   “Ah, right. I almost forgot.” He spoke to the dark eunuch, instead of his Lady Elder. “They assigned me a new Initiate today.”  
   She swallowed a bite of legume soup. “Yes, the Healer said they would.”  
   Gromm cleared his throat, wishing the eunuch would move and allow him further distance. “Since you require training, and we are already acquainted…”  
   Ealishe thrust the tray aside and hugged him from behind. He froze, staring at her eunuch in entreaty.  
   “I'm glad you don't have to leave. You're stuffy and aggravating, but at least you _talk_ to me!”  
   She let him go abruptly, as she seemed to do everything, and apologized to her eunuch.  
   “I didn't mean it like it sounded. I meant that everyone else talks over me, or talks down to me, like I'm a child.”  
   Since the latter was what he'd been trying to do, Gromm was nonplussed. He reluctantly turned toward her and bowed. There was no room for a proper _situ_ with Zezu behind him, but he managed a decent approximation.  
   “I am your humble servant, My Lady. I shall return on the morrow for your first lessons, provided the Healer clears it.”  
   He turned to leave, and was surprised to see the dark eunuch in his customary place. He never heard the man move. He left the Elder’s Quarters with the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.  
   When he reached his room, there was a box outside the door. He looked down, and there were all of his belongings, with a note on top of his lute:

**“We've had a large influx of Initiates today, perhaps due to the imminent Collapse. As you have been assigned to the Elder, we requisitioned your room for two of the aforementioned Initiates. We are certain that the Elder will make a place for you in her household.”**

   He crumpled the note in one massive fist. He should have known, he realized. The second Omen was a rapid increase in Oracles. He sighed, hefted the box onto one imposing shoulder, and strode out of the dormitory without a backward glance.  
   The decision hadn't been announced, nor had it been kept secret. Several pairs of eyes followed his calm departure. His stoic acceptance set an example for the new Initiates, and he didn't even notice. He was task-oriented, and the next order of business was securing lodgings for the night.  
   Reluctantly, he approached the Elder’s Quarters. The pale eunuch halted him at the door, which was no surprise.  
   “I must inspect anything entering these premises,” he said.  
   Gromm set the box at his feet and backed a step away. The eunuch was puzzled by the contents of the box.  
   “My Lady Elder has all of these things. Why do you bring them to her?”  
   Gromm stood much taller than the eunuch, but he felt like a naughty schoolboy being publicly chastised.  
   “I have been assigned to the Lady Elder as her Kindred. The Magi required the use of my quarters in the dormitory. It was hoped that I would be quartered here.”  
   He handed the eunuch the wrinkled note as proof. The man raised an eyebrow at the state of the paper, but made no comment.  
   He handed the note back. “I'm sorry, but there is no provision made for such a thing. You must understand, this has never happened before. There is no precedent.”  
   Gromm’s teeth set grimly, but he said nothing. He simply picked up his meager box and walked half the length of the Cavern again. His mother lived near the dormitory, on the opposite side of the causeway.  
   By the time he reached her door, he was weary, and as irritated as he ever allowed himself to be.  
   Gradja was surprised to see her son on her doorstep. She propped one meaty fist on an ample hip.  
   “Why do you stand here so late in the evening, with all your worldly possessions on your shoulder?”  
   He grunted, something he rarely did outside of her presence. “The Magi needed my room, and there's no precedent for my staying in Her Ladyship’s quarters.”  
   Gradja growled, a sound he hadn't heard from her in ages. It spoke of disgust, and resignation. “You'll stay the night, but in the morning, we go to knock some sense into that Elder of yours.”  
   Gromm did his best to hide a blush as he trod past her. “She's not my Elder so much as she is everyone's.”  
   She flapped a hand dismissively. “Pah! She still ought to have more sense than a goblin.”  
   He set the box down next to the futon in the living room. “She doesn't know. I didn't make it past the front door.”  
   “You _what?!_ ”  
   Gromm winced. The other Oracles could have heard her bellow of outrage, and his head was still tender.  
   He turned to her with outstretched hands. “I will speak with her in the morning. I believe she can be reasonable. If we must, we can make an appeal to the Council.”  
   Gradja stomped to the linen closet, fetched a blanket, and dropped it on the futon. She aimed a thick forefinger at his nose. “You'd better, because I'm not putting up a full-grown man in my house when I'm still looking for a husband!”  
   Gromm turned a bit green at the thought of his mother mating again, but held his tongue.  
   “Yes, Mama.”


	18. Lili

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of a new father.

High Monk Meron spent the rest of the day chasing his daughter around the Cavern. Once she woke from her nap, she was insatiable. She wanted to know what everything was, and she wanted to know _now_. She darted every which way, peeking under sleds and poking the bioluminescent fungi that lit the Cavern. She wanted to know why it was “painted” on all the buildings, and on the sled frames.  
   Meron couldn't answer every question she had, but he did his best. No, he didn't know why catkin walked on two legs, and cats didn't. Yes, some of the Crystals glowed during the day. No, he didn't know why they stopped glowing at night, or why they all don't glow, but that's why the fungi were grown everywhere possible. Even in the daytime, it was difficult to see in a big cave.  
   She was precocious, his daughter. She ran everywhere, questioned everything. Fortunately, he was in excellent shape. Despite the loss of blood, he easily kept up with the toddler. He bought her toys and sweets with the money the elderly elf refused to take from him. She considered it a debt paid, and mock-ordered him to spoil his little girl.  
   “You never know what may happen when she's older,” she'd said sadly. He readily agreed, giving her the dignity of ignoring the tears trailing down the papery cheeks.  
   Now, after a long day of chasing Lili, he wanted nothing more than to fall into his bed at the inn. When he reached the Gate, however, he was stopped by the Guardians.  
   “Halt! Where are you taking this Crystal-Born child?”  
   He looked up at the Guardian with bleary eyes. “She's my daughter.”  
   The one on his left scoffed. “You didn't have a daughter when you entered the city this morning.”  
   He turned so the Guardian could see her face on his shoulder. “I am given to understand that the purpose of the Brood Palace is acquiring offspring.”  
   The Guardian on his right said “Oh yeah, you did say you were going there. I thought you were going to make one, not retrieve one.”  
   Meron smiled ruefully. “In all honesty, I did not know the true nature of the place until they brought her to me. I visited it five years ago, and I thought I was paying for something entirely different.”  
   Both Guardians doubled over with laughter. When they could speak, the one on the left asked “Did the name of the place not give it away?”  
   Defensively, Meron said “I thought that a group of women here might be called a brood. I am not an expert in your culture. It was a simple misunderstanding.” He smoothed Lili’s hair protectively. “I do not regret my ignorance. Now, if you will allow me to pass, I am exhausted. Fatherhood is new to me, but I would hazard a guess that sleep is essential.”  
   The Guardians looked at each other over his head. At length, one reluctantly informed him that a special permit was required to remove a Crystal-Born child from the Cavern.  
   He groaned. _Of course it was_. “Well, is there an inn on this side of the Wall?”  
   They shook their heads. “You can inquire at the boarding house, though,” the more helpful Guardian on the right suggested.  
   “Is there a provision for the retrieval of my possessions from the inn?” he asked without much hope.  
   Helpful Guardian flagged down a passing merchant and, after a whispered consultation, the man jogged off. Meron stood, switching Lili to the other shoulder after a while, waiting for a verdict. He moved to the side, so as to avoid blocking traffic, which seemed to earn him favor with the Guardians.  
   After a long interval, Bess came sashaying up the road, his satchel under her arm. When she saw Lili, she melted.  
   “Ohh, I wish you'd said you wanted younglings!” She batted her short, spiky lashes at him. “I'd have obliged in a trice!”  
   He took the satchel, a boyish grin tugging at his lips. The Guardians hid matching smirks.  
   “I, ah… I didn't know that was what they did there…”  
   Bess snickered, but quickly stifled it. “Ha, um, well, if you ever need any help with her, you know where to come.” A wiggle of her hips emphasized the double entendre, in case he'd missed it.  
   He smiled noncommittally, thanked her, and trudged wearily toward an obliging sled. The fact that he did not encourage the barmaid won him another point with the Guardians, though he didn't notice. His back was already turned.  
   He climbed aboard the sled, taking care how he distributed their weight, and requested to be taken to the boarding house.  
   “I hope you know where it is, because I do not.” It bobbed in a generally easterly direction, so he assumed that it did.  
   He was awoken a few minutes later by a kindly old gnome.  
   “You here for a room, sonny?”  
   He nodded, suppressing a yawn.  
   “You're in luck. Just this afternoon, one of my tenants got Chosen. You can have her room. Provided, of course, you can pay.”  
   Meron fished out a dozen marks, the price of a week at the inn. The old gnome snatched them with surprising speed and shuffled back inside, cane tapping on the soft ground. He slid off the sled with a mumble of thanks and a pat on the wooden frame.  
   His new room was on the ground floor, thankfully. He was so tired that he wasn't sure he'd have made it up a flight of stairs. He thanked the old gnome, closed and Warded the door, and dropped on the bed. He tilted sideways, Lili cradled against his chest. She snuffled and shifted, but remained blissfully asleep. Satisfied that she would remain so, High Monk Meron fell asleep fully clothed for the first time in months.


	19. Suitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Gradja's new beau, and get a glimpse of how Gromm was raised.

Gromm woke to the sound of plates clacking on wood. He was an early riser, but his mother never had been. He wondered what had changed in the years he'd been gone.  
   His head was still a mite tender, so he sat up gingerly. The loud breakfast preparations didn't do his head any favors, but an orc did not show weakness of any kind. He found the dining room easily. Not much in his mother's house had changed, aside from her morning routine.  
   Gradja thumped a bowl of fruit next to the cold sausages. Red _jaja_ in a foggy pitcher clunked in the middle of the table. Three pewter cups clinked around the table.  
   Gromm stared at the third cup as though it would strike him. His mother cuffed him and shoved a chair his way.  
   “I told you I was husband hunting. You didn't honestly think I'd be celibate for the rest of my life, did you?”  
   He sank into the chair with a groan of barely-concealed disgust. He didn't want to know about his mother's love life.  
   “He'll be here any time now. You'd best behave, or so help me Gruumsh I will throw you out on your ear.”  
   He poured a glass of _jaja_ without comment. She knew by now that silence was his way of agreeing, even if he disliked what she was asking. She appreciated his taciturn nature, even if his fellow Oracles did not. Orcs weren't chatty, as a whole. If something could be communicated with a grunt, growl, or groan, they were content to do so. He hoped her… beau… understood that.  
   A knock at the door sent his spine rigid. He wasn't sure if he was expected to answer the door. His mother had lived alone for eight years, ever since his father proudly sent him to the Oracle dormitory. She was accustomed to answering her own fecking door.  
   “Welcome, Riin! Right on time!”  
   Riin’kas Dra’vuul blinked large, owlish eyes, adjusted his round, wire-rimmed glasses. He wasn't used to Gradja greeting him with so many words.  
   “Greetings, Gradja, my pet. I trust all is well?”  
   “Of course!” she roared, clapping him on the shoulder. “Come on in.” She backed into the house, shoving him in ahead of her. He stumbled, but seemed accustomed to being greeted thus.  
   Riin froze when he saw the hulking giant with the beaded, braided beard at the table, but only for a moment. He sat on the other side, next to his girl, and slapped idly at his sleeve.  
   Seeing the motion, Gradja grabbed a damp towel and pressed it to his arm. She clucked her tongue at him like a mother hen.  
   “Who did ye blow up this time, eh? Mmf, I'll have to mend this for ye, again. I'll be happy as a pig in mud when they invent fire-resistant fabric, I will!”  
   Gromm simply stared, hardly believing his eyes. Who was this woman, and what did she do with his mother?  
   “Riin, darling, are you feeling up to warming breakfast?”  
   The Deep Elf waved his hand negligently, and steam rose from the cold sausages. Gradja dropped several on his plate, then her own, and sat down to eat. She kept the damp rag handy, just in case.  
   Gromm served himself, as he'd done since he was old enough to reach. He watched them while he ate. His mother, who never coddled him a day in his life, hovered over this skinny, bookish… _elf_ like he was a wounded bird. For his part, the balding Deep Elf took the fussing in stride. He lifted his elbow when she asked, still eating his sausages and fruit without breaking rhythm. It appeared that this was typical behavior between them.  
   At the end of the meal, the puny man read poetry that he'd written himself, to honor his coarse, heavy-handed mother. He loved her dearly, but the poetry did not describe the woman he remembered.

“Oh Gradja, my sweet,  
With hair like well-done meat,  
Skin so stony grey,  
Hear my love words, I pray.

I doth burn for you  
Like elementals do…”

   Gromm excused himself from the table before he embarrassed himself, his mother, or both.  
   He hefted his box of belongings onto his broad shoulder and walked to the door. He paused in the dining room doorway to wave goodbye to his mother, but she was too engrossed in the poetry reading. He shook his head and left.

   When he reached the Elder’s Quarters, the effeminate eunuch was at the door. He set his box down before requesting admittance.  
   The eunuch inspected the box, as his fellow had. He must have been told why he was here, but he understood the precaution.  
   “You will be allowed to speak with the Lady Elder, but your belongings are to remain with me.”  
   Gromm bowed his head in acquiescence. “May I request that particular care be taken with my father's books? They are quite old.”  
   The eunuch readily agreed. He was waved inside. He knew not where his box of worldly possessions was taken, but he would approach one problem at a time.  
   Gromm knocked on his Elder’s door. He'd been permitted into her inner sanctum, but he did not assume that she was awake and dressed. He was prepared to wait as long as necessary to speak with her, but the door opened almost immediately.  
   Ealishe was sitting at her little table, breaking fast. She waved him to the other seat. Normally, he would have declined, but given the delicate nature of his request, he sat.  
   “Are you hungry?” she asked solicitously.  
   “I'm afraid I've had my appetite spoiled, My Lady.”  
   One side of her brow ridge quirked, preceding her inquiry. Again, he would not have mentioned it, but perhaps sympathy might not be amiss, today.  
   She clutched her sides with laughter when he got to the poem. “‘Like well-done meat’? And he thought that was _romantic?_ ”  
   The corners of his mouth twitched. “In point of fact, he is paraphrasing a popular orcish sonnet, My Lady.”  
   “You jest! Wait, you can't, can you? Seriously? Is this... _sonnet_... popular with the orc ladies?”  
   He nodded. “Orcs do not value flowers, or perfume, milady. Meat and weaponry are prized far more.”  
   She bit thoughtfully into a pastry that oozed pink jam. She didn't know much about orcs, having paid so little attention in social studies. From what she'd seen of Gromm, she would assume them to be a steady, pragmatic people. For a very few tribes, this was true. By and large, however, his mother's people were savage brutes who took what they wanted, often by force.  
   His mother never told him which category her tribe had been, but if they'd been anything like her, he doubted she would have left.  
   “So, you live with your mother?” she asked, wondering if it were typical orc behavior.  
   He took particular care peeling a piece of fruit. He could not look her in the eye, for fear of seeing disgust, pity, or any emotion that would undermine his male pride.  
   “I spent the night on her futon, but I am hopeful that it was a temporary situation.”  
   He heard her spoon clack against her bowl of yogurt. “You've been rendered homeless? After they gave you a new Initiate and everything?” She remembered from her reading that Oracles were quartered in the dormitory until and unless they married. “How could they?!”  
   Her chair scraped back. He quickly covered one of the hands braced on the table. “My Lady, please don't do anything rash.”  
   He mentally braced himself to meet her crimson gaze. “They hoped, with the sudden influx of Initiates, that I would be given quarter here.”  
   She dropped into the chair again. “Oh.”  
   Gromm removed his paw from her hand. Neither could look the other in the face. Both wore matching blushes.  
   “Elders typically have families at some point, so there is plenty of room,” he said hesitantly. “There is no precedent for a House Oracle, which is why I was turned away last night. Should it please you, you could petition the Council for such an allowance.”  
   Ealishe couldn't get her mind past the way he said “family”. She was too young to even consider having a family her own, yet the way he said the word made her briefly yearn for one. The sentiment did not last long. They rarely did, with her. Her moods were quicksilver; had been since childhood.  
   She schooled her features into a mask of calm before looking up at his bowed head. “I suppose, since I do not intend to make use of those rooms for quite some time, you may have one. The Healer said that training requires many years. Perhaps when it is complete, I will desire a… family… but by then, there may be room in the dormitory.”  
   Gromm looked up when she began speaking, so he saw the way she choked on the very idea of having children. It made him vaguely sad, but her species lived long enough for a change of heart; several, in fact.  
   “I hesitate to urge expediency, given your health, but the Council must be consulted first.”  
   As he'd known it would, the hint that she could not do something stiffened her resolve. She would storm the Council as soon as they finished their repast, just to prove that she was fully recovered.


	20. Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ealishe confronts the Council as their Elder for the first time, but to do so, she must look the part.

Ealishe suffered the effeminate eunuch’s attentions, knowing that he was correct in saying that she needed to appear at her most regal. He adorned her wrists and ankles in delicate, chained affairs that dangled between the joint and a ring on a toe or finger, respectively. Many carved silver rings circled her tail. There were gold rings in the boxes, but he assured her that silver would accent her byzantine scales much better than gold.  
   “I'm afraid gold would make you look quite heliotrope, My Lady. The silver shows off your more imperial hue, in my humble opinion.”  
   She wasn't well-versed in her colors, but he was surprisingly firm on the subject. Since he knew the subtleties of these things, she bowed to his judgment. She didn't miss his stress of the word “imperial”, considering her new status.  
   Her gown was an intricately beaded creation of bright blue. He said it was the color of a warm ocean with a sandy bottom, but she wouldn't know. None of her books had illustrations, and she could not leave the dark sanctuary of her home.  
   Upon her hair he set a net of fairyweave. Whether actually woven by the fey, or simply a fanciful term, she didn't know. The clever creation wound around her horns for stability, with weighty baubles holding it down in front. It was silver, of course, with amethysts and sapphires winking hither and thither.  
   Around her neck, he clasped an ethereal wisp of silver, shot through with myriad shades of blue and purple. Even her fledgling wings were dusted with shiny powder, though she protested half-heartedly. She didn't know what she looked like, but she felt beautiful.  
   When Gromm was admitted back into the room, he froze on the threshold. His eyes widened, mouth dropped open. They were small changes, of course, but she noticed. It bolstered her burgeoning self-esteem, which she needed more than she would admit.  
   She also noted that part of his beard was beaded, and part was tied. She fetched the box and set it on the table next to the hand mirror.  
   “If you are to be my Kindred, you mustn't look half put-together,” she chastised gently. “Kindly adorn the rest of your braids accordingly.”  
   His prominent brow furrowed. He picked up the delicate mirror, and saw for the first time what she'd done with his braids.  
   “I cannot wear these! It is very…” he floundered, something she hadn't seen before. Finally, he finished with “unorcish…”  
   She laughed, the first he'd heard from her. It was a hearty laugh, yet it sounded as though he'd struck a chord on his lute.  
   “Of course you can. Trust me, my uncle has worn beads on his chin horns, so nobody will laugh. Well, I can't speak for your mother, but if she hasn't mocked you for it yet, you're probably safe.”  
   He rumbled deep in his chest, but made no further comment. He sat at the small table and tried to clasp the tiny things onto the existing hair ties. Managing the ties themselves was tricky enough, but the miniscule, hinged devices thwarted his huge fingers.  
   Ealishe relieved him of the tedious task. She swept the wee thing from his meaty paw and made short work of his beard. His palm tingled where her talons brushed it, but he clenched it under the table while she worked.  
   “I now pronounce you fit to be seen in my company,” she said merrily. He just rumbled noncommittally.  
   She walked out the door, and down the hall. She did not notice, as Gromm did, that Zezu fell in step behind her. She was flanked by two very imposing spectres, though she was only aware of one.  
   It wasn't far to the Council Chambers, which was a secret relief to Ealishe. For all her bravado, she was still light-headed, and weaker than she would like.  
   The Council Chambers stood guard over one side of the Elder’s Quarters, with the barracks on the opposite side.  
   The compost heap kept would-be assassins from attempting to blow a hole in either the back wall of the Council Chambers, or the western wall of the Elder’s Quarters. This had been a bone of contention since the Founding, but it was a matter of security, so no Council had ever managed to move it.  
   Ealishe and her two bodyguards entered the antechamber and approached the clerk of the day.  
   “We would petition the Council,” she said in a voice he'd never heard before. It rang with authority; so much so that the poor lad leapt to inform the Council members. Taken with her attire, and the ubiquitous Zezu, there could be no doubt who she was.  
   Ealishe refrained from pacing, but her claws tapped the carpet restlessly. Her talons twitched with the effort it took not to cross her arms. Her tail and wings rustled the fabric of her dress.  
    _She does not like to be kept waiting,_ her silent companions observed. _This does not bode well for the Councilors,_ Zezu thought. It would be most entertaining to see, but he was not certain if this Council would allow him in session. Some did, some didn't. He hoped this one did.  
   They waited perhaps fifteen minutes. Zezu approximated the amount of time it would take for the myriad species and genders to outfit themselves in the regalia they deemed necessary, and theorized that some might not be fully fastened when they entered. The high-backed, uncomfortable chairs would hide any gaping closures they may have missed in their haste.  
   The time crawled for Ealishe, who was still young. She had not acquired the patience of age, as Zezu had, or training, as Gromm had. She was young and vibrant, and she moved at a faster pace.  
   When the harried scribe came to escort them inside, she was irritable. Not only was she forced to wait, but there was no bench to rest upon. Her failing reserves angered her. She disliked limits of any kind; particularly physical ones. It was this anger that carried her shaking legs to the Crystal Throne.  
   It lived up to its name. All of the chairs were constructed around a framework of crystals, grown where they stood. All were padded as well as could be expected. The Crystal Throne had been planted first, so it stood the tallest. The padding was thicker, for its occupant sat in it for many more years than the decade allotted each Councilor. The cushions and armrests were more ornate, but that was the case with many hierarchies.  
   Ealishe sat with as much dignity as she could, with her legs trembling the way they were. She barely avoided sitting on her tail, which would have ruined any chance of the older people taking her seriously. She debated crossing them, but no one would see her legs beneath the table, so she opted for comfort.  
   “Ladies, gentlemen, and nonbinary persons, I would like to formally greet you. If you would introduce yourselves, I shall endeavor to remember each and every person’s name and gender identity.”  
   Zezu coughed quietly. She was so tired, she'd almost forgotten to introduce herself. She inclined her head ever so slightly in thanks.  
   “My name is Ealishe Cibii Kyeli Maniera. This is my Head Eunuch, and this is Gromm Darkwash Kindreth, the Oracle who found me after I was Chosen.” She paused to meet each pair of eyes before continuing.  
   “He is also my Oracle Kindred.”


	21. Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Council struggles to accept the truths before them.

Ealishe allowed chaos to reign for precisely thirty seconds before letting out an ear-piercing whistle. Gromm flinched, as did she, but nobody was looking at them. By the time the flustered Councilors looked their way, the facial tic had passed.  
   Ealishe spread her wings, which just barely peeked over her shoulders, and glared red daggers around the table. That effectively silenced the motley group. Only one of the Councilors knew what the Elder Oracle was a portent of: the Crystal-Born Councilor. The Oracle Advisor knew, of course. The rest were confused, resentful of her doubled power, or curious.  
   “If we may continue in an orderly fashion,” said the youngest person in the room, “perhaps you will be so kind as to introduce yourselves.”  
   Gromm, who stood just behind the throne, was impressed. Not only had she remembered his full name, but she'd brought to heel thirteen disparate, older people.  
   “We will begin at my left, if it is agreeable.” She looked to the squat creature, with its bulbous head and pasty skin.  
   It stood on the seat of the chair, being too short to be seen otherwise. In a stuffy-sounding, nasal voice, it said “My name is Droot. My people are asexual.”  
   She gave a brief bow. “We recognize the emissary of the fungal ents. Next, the emissary of the Sky Elves.”  
   The Councilors had never been referred to as emissaries of their race. It put starch in their spines--metaphorically speaking in the case of Droot, who had no bones.  
   The Sky Elf rose to her full height. “I am Eilonwe Dyrstaf, High Elven branch of Sky Elves.”  
   Ealishe saw a notepad appear at her elbow, and duly noted the distinction. She also wrote the names and genders, as they went around the table.  
   “Karakuul Maanet’ja, Deep Elf emissary. Male.” He seemed to be fighting the urge to salute. She wrote ‘military?’ next to his name.  
   “Fizzyrix Spanner, gnome emissary. Also male.”  
   “Damyusa Kinsey, catkin emissarry. Female,” she purred obsequiously.  
   “Mirabella Rosk, human female.” She barely stood to speak, sinking back into her chair halfway through the word “female”.  
   “Rhys Saiax, lycanthrope emissary. Male.” She made a note to ask if he were of the canine or lupine branch. She also jotted down ‘okay to ask that..?’ She was still learning etiquette.  
   “Rill Shissar, of the Faerie. I politely decline gender assignment.”  
   Ealishe started to ask what that meant; but before she could say an entire word, Gromm bent to whisper the correct reply to such an appeal. Because Oracles were required to work with a variety of species, social etiquette was an essential lesson. Ealishe nodded her thanks.  
   “We recognize your gender, but respect your wishes.” To the trained eye, Rill was a female, but many of the fey enjoyed the larger races’ inability to discern their gender. She could only hope that Rill would curb the naughty pranks while in office.  
   “Fura Steelhammer, dwarf. Obviously female,” she said, adjusting the halter of her support garment as discreetly as possible. Ealishe did not envy her large bosom. _It must be hard on her back,_ she thought. _Maybe we should take breaks during long sessions for her to stretch, or… whatever._  
   “Faolan Kerithvyn, Crystal-Born. I also decline gender assignment.”  
   Ealishe could see that she was the masculine variant of the female of her species. Faolan was allowing those who referred to her as male the luxury of thinking they were correct, which was common practice in Crystal-Born society.  
   “We recognize your proper gender, but respect your wishes.”  
   The halfling emissary hopped up onto his chair and proudly declared his name “Nimble Greenleaf. Lightfoot halfling.” The beard rendered his lack of gender identification moot.  
   The Councilor to her right creaked to its feet and bowed deeply, making the others feel foolish for neglecting to do the same.  
   “Nerok Barkskin, troll emissary of the woods. Male, if you please.” He creaked as he sat, and she privately wondered if he were made entirely out of wood.  
   “And who is that in the corner?” she asked.  
   A half elf, half Crystal-Born feminine variant of the male gender rose from his stool, diagonally across from her around the circular Council table. He bowed in as low a _situ_ as possible without disappearing behind Mirabella.  
   “Niciannon Anume, Oracle Advisor to the Council. I presume you recognize my proper gender, and will respect my wishes for it to remain unsaid.”  
   She nodded. “As you say, Advisor.”  
   He waited for her reply before taking his seat. Unlike the Councilors, his position was granted by the Revered Magi. They could remove him for misconduct at a moment’s notice. He was not elected by his species, as the Councilors were. That was fortunate, considering his hybrid status. The only way for a half-breed to grace these chambers was to become an Oracle, and only Crystal-Born hybrids qualified.  
   He eyed the Oracle next to the Elder, wondering if she would place him where Niciannon now sat. He knew who the half-orc was. There were only two orcs in the city; and besides his reputation in the dormitory, he was easily the largest creature Below. A few trolls could boast of similar height, but none of those would ever rival him for sheer size. His upper arm was the size of Karakuul’s waist!  
   Niciannon did not wish to have the behemoth as his enemy; nor did he want to be replaced.  
   Gromm felt the speculative gaze of his colleague upon him. He could guess the older man's thoughts, but he had no ambition to serve on the Council.  
   “Now to the matter at hand,” Ealishe said. There were probably formalities she was skipping, but it was her first time in Council. “It has come to our attention that my Kindred has recently been cast out of the Oracle dormitories. For those of you who do not know, one of the Omens that Oracles watch for is a dramatic increase in Initiates.”  
   She paused to see who was following her, and who didn't know the Prophecy. All but two of the faces in front of her were blank. She sighed and leaned back in her throne.  
   “Which of you two would like to enlighten the Council?” She speared Niciannon and Faolan with dispassionate onyx eyes. Faolan deferred to Niciannon, since he was more likely to be believed.  
   The half elf stood reluctantly, all eyes on him. He'd been ambitious, sure, but only as far as answering occasional questions here or there.  
   “There is a Prophecy, yes. There are Omens that precede the Great Collapse, and ah… two of them have already come to pass. First was the Elder Oracle.” He flapped a hand weakly in Ealishe’s direction. “Then there was the influx of new Initiates. The Prophecy warns that the next Omens are more… dire.”  
   Karakuul lifted one navy-skinned hand for clarification. “Just what is this Great Collapse?”  
   Niciannon shrugged. “Nobody really knows, other than the whole Cavern caving in.”  
   Gromm cleared his throat, which sounded like a cannon in the sudden stillness. Ealishe motioned for him to speak.  
   “That is not strictly true. Some few of us do know the cause of the Great Collapse. I am bound from revealing all, but I can tell you this much: Kaia is dying.”


	22. Uncomfortable Revelations

Even Ealishe was speechless. Parts of her dream came flooding back: shards of Crystals crashing into houses, people screaming, the very ground heaving…  
   Her eyes rolled back in her head, throwing a fiery glow on the ceiling of the Chamber. Images reeled through her brain, striving to be understood.  
   Houses and carts with legs. Houses with Crystals falling out. Crystals on the Cavern walls. Falling Crystals. Kaia dying. What was Kaia? What was the floor?  
   The knowledge exploded in her brain, and she slumped over the arm of the throne.  
   Gromm scooped her into his massive arms and gently lay her on the ground far enough away from the table that if she should suffer a seizure, she would not hit her head. He gently folded her wings. Then he knelt calmly, with her head on his knees, answering the questions fired at him with his typical stoicism.  
   “Kaia has Spoken to her. No, she has had no formal training. Because I formed a bridge between them. Yes, it could have killed both of us, but as you can see, it did not. I do not know how long she will be--”  
   The questions ceased when she stirred and moaned. Gromm helped her into a seated position, mindful of wings and tail.  
   “Figured it out, have you?” he murmured. He spoke quietly, in case her skull was still ringing. Sometimes, before he'd learned to untangle Her messages properly, his head would feel like a thousand Crystals were singing between his ears.  
   Ealishe clung to his arm, swaying unsteadily. She nodded slowly, jerkily. Then she looked each person in the eye. They needed to believe the words she was about to utter.  
   “He's right, She is dying. Soon, the Crystals will fail. They will shatter, and then they will fall. Even the ones in the ceiling. The Wall won't hold back the darkness anymore. If we aren't gone by the time the Wall cracks…” she shuddered at the image of wraiths, cloakers, vampires, lich, and thousands of other horrible things flooding through the gap. She gazed briefly at her rock for strength before continuing.  
   “She has been keeping untold numbers of evil things from devouring us. Once Her shell cracks, they'll be able to get in. They will…” she gulped down a wave of nausea. “They will devour Her flesh, and anyone who remains.”  
   Several of the Councilors retched. Some scoffed. Gromm squeezed her arm in silent support.  
   “The process is slow. She is ancient. It will take time for her to…” Even he could barely say the word. “Expire. It may be months, years, even decades. All we know for certain is that Lady Ealishe will be the last Elder. Beyond that, we can only prepare, and eventually evacuate. That is why so many Initiates were Chosen. We need all the eyes and ears we can get, to monitor Her life signs.”  
   Karakuul stood straight and proud. “Then it is fortunate that you have experienced fighters on your side.” He looked around, meeting gazes as his Lady Elder did. “I know the horrors she speaks of. My people fled here to escape them. Even now, the Deep Dwarves fight them in the Wild Zone.”  
   Fura thumped a heavy fist on the table. “Aye, and some o’ my kin, as well. Lost a brother to an ooze just last year.” Though she didn't say so, her personal loss had been the reason she'd been elected. Dwarves were tired of losing loved ones.  
   Ealishe struggled to her feet, clinging to Gromm’s muscular arm for support. She dropped into the throne, panting slightly.  
   “That was not the direct cause of this meeting, but I would like all of you to come up with ideas for making the transition as smooth as possible.”  
   “The transition where?” Nerok asked bitterly. “My kind are welcome nowhere else.”  
   Ealishe put up a hand to stem the flood of questions and concerns. “That is but one of many items on the agenda. We will need to form committees to tackle the issues that arise. There is much to be done, I am well aware. But,” she said wearily, “first things first. I called you lot together to tackle a much simpler problem that has arisen, due to the unusual circumstances before us.  
   “Vanguard Oracle Gromm was named my Kindred. He is to teach me what he can before Kaia… Well anyway, because there are so many new Initiates, they needed his room. They thought that he would be given quarter with me, since I am not… married. There are several unused rooms in my suite, but there is no precedent for an Oracle in residence. I would like to set that precedent.”  
   A lesser version of the earlier babble ensued, each Councilor trying to be heard over the other. She noticed that the emissaries from the younger races were mostly for it, while the older races were largely against it.  
   When the initial furor had died down, Nimble was heard to say that any change before evacuation should be avoided, to prevent discontent among the masses.  
   Faolan agreed. “We need to keep the public calm until the last days. Having such a young Elder, particularly an unmarried one, is going to make some of our people nervous as it is.”  
   “They're going to have to get used to change anyway,” Rhys pointed out.  
   “Well, of course _you_ would espouse change,” Mirabella scoffed.  
   The lycanthrope bristled, but did not rise to the bait. Ealishe’s estimation of him went up a notch.  
   After another half hour of debate, in which Ealishe realized that nothing was ever simple in the Council, Rill spoke up. Because she so rarely intervened, the rest of the Council listened.  
   “You know, there is a simple solution to this problem, and it's staring you in the face.” No one volunteered the so-called obvious answer. She pointed at the Lady Elder and her Kindred. “There is no precedent for an Elder Oracle, yet here she is. She needs a Kindred, and there he is. He asks to live with her.”  
   Gromm cleared his throat uncomfortably. “The Magi ask it, not I.”  
   Rill waved a tiny hand dismissively. “Regardless, he needs somewhere to live, and the boarding house has no room. Nor does the dormitory. She has the room to spare, because she is unmarried. I know part of the problem you have with breaking precedent is that they are both unmarried, and it just isn't proper to share living quarters.”  
   Many heads nodded; some slowly, others emphatically.  
   “As I said, the solution is simple.” She paused for effect, as fey are wont to do when they know their next words would create delicious fun. “You wouldn't have an issue, either way, if they got married.”


	23. Marriage of Convenience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get along well enough, and they won't even share a bedroom. It should be fine, right..?

Ealishe leapt to her feet, but promptly fell back into the chair. Gromm reached out to steady her automatically, his own head spinning.  
   “You can't honestly expect me to marry someone I met _two days ago_ , just because of some antiquated precedent, can you?!” Her wide eyes glowed an anxious vermillion.  
   Gromm patted her shoulder awkwardly, though his eyes were faintly limned in gold. He didn't want to marry a virtual stranger, just to secure lodgings. Was the boarding house really full?  
   Ealishe looked over her shoulder at him. “Do you think your mother will let you live with her?”  
   He was shaking his head before she finished the sentence. “She said it was one night only. Then she threatened to knock some sense into the Council.”  
   Those near enough to hear him blanched, whispered the information to the people who hadn't heard. Anxious glances flitted across the table every which way.  
   “Should we consult the Elder’s parents?” Eilonwe asked. Without precedent, she felt adrift.  
   “I'd prefer it if you didn't,” she said dryly. As many times as she'd been married, Livveth was just as likely to give her blessing.  
   “If the Grreat Collapse is imminent, does it rreally matterr?” Damyusa asked. “Why do you carre who you spend yourr last days with? It could be fun.” Her yellow eyes danced merrily.  
   Both Elder and Kindred blushed and looked away. This amused the older Councilors. At a time when humor was sure to be scarce, they united in this one thing.  
   “I'm sorry, My Lady, but the only way to satisfy tradition and preserve the peace seems to be for you to wed. As you say, there are many rooms in your suite. None on the Council will expect offspring. Consider this a marriage of convenience.” Faolan was unyielding.  
   Ealishe glowered at the table at large, but no one budged. She detected a note of mischief in more than one pair of eyes. She looked up at Gromm, who merely shrugged. She knew how he felt about marrying a stranger. He knew how she felt about marriage in general.  
   Niciannon put in his humble opinion, since it was expectantly silent: “If it helps, you would be married to a man who can tell no falsehoods.” Not to mention, if he married the Elder, there was no threat to Niciannon’s position.  
   Half the Council erupted in laughter. Ealishe turned heliotrope. Gromm glared mild daggers at his compatriot. Though he did not wish it, he had to admit that there were worse fates.  
   “May we have a moment to discuss your terms?” he asked.  
   There was a unanimous consent from the doting middle-aged and elderly matchmakers.  
   Ealishe tried again to stand. Gromm offered his arm, from a gentlemanly distance. She leaned heavily on it, but her weight was negligent to one as strong as he.  
   They adjourned to a cubicle just off the Council Chambers. It looked to be a powder room, for there was a tiny stool that she could rest on. He closed the door and leaned against it. He waited for her to speak, but she said nothing.  
   Gromm squatted where he stood, to put himself on eye level with her. “Do I displease you, My Lady?”  
   She frowned at a tray of beauty enhancers on the table before her. She was too embarrassed to answer.  
   “Niciannon is correct, I would never lie to you. Faolan is correct when she says that we needn't share a bedroom. We could be friends, yes? We've already braided each other's hair.”  
   That startled a chuckle out of her. She nodded at the floor. “Mother has married so many times… I swore I'd never do that to myself.”  
   He put one thick finger under her chin and tilted her face toward his. “She was marrying for the wrong reasons, then.  
   “My Lady, neither of us want to be married, so let's not think of it as a proper marriage, eh? Just pretend we're signing a lease together. It's the same concept: we each agree to live in the same place for an unspecified number of years. If you decide you don't want to be roommates anymore, we break the lease, so to speak.”  
   Her childish heart brightened. “Yeah, I can do that.” Maybe if it wasn't a real marriage, she'd never have to get divorced.  
   Gromm held out one huge paw. She shook it once, beaming brightly. His breath caught in his chest, but he let go of her hand when she released his.  
   They reentered the Chambers, Ealishe outright leaning on her friend. Propriety be damned, she was going to marry him anyway. Who cared how much distance was between them now?  
   She plopped into the throne, weary and relieved. “We will agree to your terms. Where will he stay until the service?”  
   Damyusa purred “Nerrok is his trribe's holy man. He could perrforrm the rrites herre and now.”  
   The troll looked uncomfortable. Gromm feared another outburst, but his Lady Elder merely shrugged.  
   “I don't suppose it matters when or where. I don't have any family I wish to be present, do you?”  
   Gromm thought of the poetry and cringed. “As of late, I do not.”  
   Nerok relaxed. “My people do not have elaborate rites. All one must do is clasp hands and recite a short verse.”  
   Ealishe held her dainty clawed hands out trustingly. Gromm put his great paws beneath them, noting how fragile her fingers looked within his.  
   Nerok pulled a length of his sash away from his vestments, which Ealishe realized did somewhat resemble a human priest’s garb. He wound the sash loosely over their joined hands, chanting something in his own tongue.  
   “Repeat these words:  
“Sun above, ground Beneath,  
By your side, I will remain,  
Until both depart.”  
   In an aside, he informed them that in his native dialect, the verse did rhyme. They chuckled nervously. They duly repeated the odd little verse, and both voices caught on the last word. They were thinking of the Great Collapse.  
   Anywhere else, their audience would have mistaken it for something romantic. Most of the eyes in the room were damp, but no one was feeling romantically sentimental. Everyone was thinking about Kaia.  
   Nerok cleared his throat awkwardly. “In most cultures, the contract is sealed with a kiss. In your case, the cheek will do.”  
   Ealishe blushed a deep magenta. Gromm dutifully pecked his wife's winged cheekbone. Nerok untied their hands with a gusty sigh.  
   The Lady Elder turned to her Council and smiled a brittle little smile. “Now that we've settled that, I must retire. We shall begin planning for the rest on the morrow. Is that agreeable?”  
   Everyone could see how exhausted she was. Some were keen to jump right in the next day, while others urged her to take a day to recuperate. She vowed to return in the morning. Gromm knew she was likely to do just that.


	24. Awkward Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp, now they're married... What's next?

Ealishe wobbled out the door and down the hall. She was determined to walk the whole way home, but her knees buckled halfway around the garden. Gromm swept her into his brawny arms and carried her inside. He ignored the House Eunuchs and any objections they might make. The Head Eunuch could sort them out. _His_ job was to put his Lady to bed, and that's what he did.  
   He set her on the edge of her bed and began removing jewelry. The box was still sitting on the bedside table. He dropped tail rings into it, and finger rings. Once again, he was thwarted by miniscule clasps on everything else.  
   Gromm turned to ask the dark eunuch for assistance, but he was not in his customary place. He scowled as he lifted the delicate silver creation from her hair and set it in a compartment that looked to be the correct size.  
   Then, unable to do anything else, he stuck his head out the door. The pale eunuch was standing stiffly outside.  
   “Oh good, I need some help. I can't get those silver contraptions off of her. Where did her personal eunuch get to, by the way? He was right behind us when we left the Council.”  
   The pale man followed him into the room while he spoke. “I don't know where he went, but I was told not to bother her unless she called for me.”  
   Ealishe mutely held out her wrists. He stepped around the orc and set to work relieving the Elder of her accoutrement.  
   “You know, I don't even know your name,” she said to the platinum blonde hair of the eunuch.  
   His head did not lift from his work. “I was not given a name,” he said tonelessly.  
   “You must go by _something!_ ” she exclaimed.  
   “No, _surrah_. They just call me the pale one.”  
   She tsked. “Well, that's got to change. What name would you like?” She was completely genuine.  
   The eunuch stared at the silver anklet in his thin hands. Eventually, he shrugged.  
   “Any name would be a gift, My Lady.”  
   She thought for a while. He continued removing her jewelry. She hesitantly asked if he would mind being called Snow.  
   He laughed. “I suppose it's better than pale.”  
   She said rather defensively that she needed a way to remember their names. “I've got to memorize the names and faces of everyone on the Council. It'd be nice if someone's name was easy to remember, and I cannot in good conscience let you go on without _some_ sort of name.”  
   The eunuch removed the last piece of jewelry and smiled sadly. “If it will ease your mind to give me a name, that is your right. I will answer to whatever name you see fit.” Then he bowed himself out of the room.  
   Gromm watched him go, a perplexed expression on his face. “Do you think he will send your personal eunuch to help you out of that gown?”  
   When she did not answer, he turned back. She was staring at her lap, folding the fabric at her knee.  
   “He might not come,” she said in a small voice.  
   “I don't see why not. He knows the circumstances of our marriage. Surely he is simply seeing to lunch.”  
   She brightened a little. “You're right. Shall we talk while we wait?”  
   He sat on the chair by her bed. “What would you speak of, little one?” He didn't notice that he'd already begun speaking to her as a friend, rather than his Elder.  
   Ealishe smiled and flipped her hands once, nervously. She liked the way he said “little one”, but was hesitant to say so. If anyone else had called her that, she might have bristled or snapped at them. Somehow, the way he said it, all soft and mellow, she could not take offense. She wasn't fond of the paternal overtones, though.  
   They sat, knees a foot apart, wracking their brains for something to say. They thought of subjects, then as quickly discarded them.  
   Gromm, who was more at ease in silence, was not as anxious to break it. He studied the top of her head while she repeatedly pleated her skirt. He pondered the direction his life had taken, to be bound to a young, coltish Elder. His father, Kaia rest his soul, would be proud.  
   Kivett was a calm, steady man, much like his son. Everything he did was methodical, planned in advance when possible. He was already an Oracle when he met Gradja at the Sky Market. He did not flatter her with praise, as Riin’kas did. He told her that she was exactly what he'd been looking for. He was already two hundred and eighty three years old when he met Gradja. He'd been married several times, but was never satisfied with the result.  
   Gradja never knew what he meant by that, but Gromm suspected that he did. His father was interested in hybrid vigor, and creating the strongest Oracle possible. He'd married a human, a dwarf, and even a troll.  
   The human children he had with Miera were plentiful, but only one became an Oracle before he divorced her. Brodley did not advance beyond Vanguard, and it was a minor miracle that he even attained _that_. Kivett found human hybrids too impatient.  
   The dwarf, Bronwyn, only bore him one child, and though Berda was a sturdy lass, she was never Chosen.  
   He stayed with a troll named Marn for many years, hoping that their strong progeny would be Chosen, but the only one to become an Oracle never made it past Novice. Krolm was too reckless for the rigorous training, too complacent with regard to his own safety. He thought he could handle anything the Crystals could throw at him, and Kivett did not want to be there when he found out otherwise.  
   Gromm was glad that his father was already with Kaia when he was proven correct. Krolm tried touching Her, and the Backlash fried his neurons. He wasn't found for several days, when his wife finally discovered his body sprawled behind one of the larger Crystals. He must've thought being right up against Her shell would improve his Connection, Gromm thought sadly.  
   He did not know his seven remaining half-siblings well, but the loss of any life was sad. He never tried to Speak with his deceased relatives, as other Oracles did, for he knew the truth. His relatives did not join with Kaia spiritually, as everyone assumed.  
   They became part of Her body.  
   That was the ugly truth of Tantalus Caverns. When you died, and were interred “within Kaia’s inner chamber”, it meant that your corpse was hand-fed to the dying Kaia. He did not know what was done with indigestible garments and jewelry, but he did know that was why Crystal-Born were limited to three hundred years of age. On their three hundredth birthday, they were drugged and fed to the creature that kept the darkness at bay.  
   It was an arrangement that benefited everyone, and Crystal-Born society as a whole accepted the geas. The Skyfolk, his mother included, did not know the high cost of their safety. His father left on his two hundred ninety ninth birthday, to spare them. Gradja was too young for him to drag into the maw of the Great Tantalus, so he left. Because they were no longer married, he was not required to sacrifice his mate with him.  
   That, too, was common practice. Crystal-Born who married someone from a younger race often divorced their spouse the year before their death, which was spent in reflection and preparation. Some gorged on food, to make a more substantial meal. Some attempted to flee, but with their light-sensitive eyes, few made it far before slinking back in defeat.  
   All of this was in his eyes as he gazed at his new wife. He was older by two years. If Kaia were not dying, he would be forced to choose whether to sacrifice her two years early, or divorce her. As stubborn as she was, she would have opted to stay. Knowing that made him proud. _Yes, she would have made a good orc,_ he thought.  
   It was a blessing in the midst of all the uncertainty, he thought sadly. He would never have to make that choice, yet no one knew where they could migrate to. Roughly half of the inhabitants were day-blind; whether from Crystal-Born, Deep Elf, or Deep Dwarf heritage. The mere thought of moving so many half-blind, panicky people gave him a headache.  
   One rough paw traced her downcast cheek, so lost in sorrow and pride was he. He quite forgot for a moment who or where they were.  
   Ealishe’s head snapped up, brow ridge wrinkled in confusion.  
   His hand dropped to his knee again. “I do not envy our people the task ahead, nor you the duty of leading them. As I said, the burden is heavy upon your shoulders, My Lady.”  
   “Oh.” The way he cupped her cheek so tenderly, her mind had taken a very different track. Pity was the last thing she'd expected from her Kindred.  
   A knock at her door interrupted their solitude. Ealishe called for them to enter. Gromm scooted further back on the flimsy chair.  
   Lyesha, Captain of the Sovereign Guard, strode halfway into the room before halting uncertainly.  
   “Am I interrupting something?” she asked.  
   Gromm stood to make room for her. “I shall see to my belongings, My Lady Elder,” he said formally. She missed being called little one, but perhaps he reserved that for private conversations.


	25. Lineage

Captain Lyesha executed a precise military bow, as she had when she first visited. “I understand you met with the Council.”  
Ealishe nodded.  
   “May I request that you have a Guardian present at all times, if you venture beyond these walls?”  
   Ealishe frowned. “I had Gromm with me, as well as my personal eunuch. It wasn't far, either.”  
   Lyesha’s brow ridge furrowed. “This Gromm you speak of, was that the mountain that just left?”  
   Ealishe nodded, trying to curtail a blush.  
   “I suppose he is sufficient protection. Is this the same Oracle who found you after you were Chosen?”  
   She nodded again.  
   “It seems he is present wherever necessary. Perhaps I should formally induct him into the Guard.”  
   In a very small voice, Ealishe informed her that he would continue to remain at her side. “…As my husband…” She was staring intently at the hands folded tightly in her lap.  
   Lyesha made no immediate comment. What could she say?  
   “Well,” she said, drawing out the word, “then I would humbly request that he accompany you on further outings. If he is indisposed, I will gladly assign you a personal Guardian.”  
   Ealishe chafed at any restrictions, but she understood the need. She agreed, though it did not sit well.  
   “Is there any quality or disposition you require in a Guardian, My Lady?”  
   Ealishe merely shrugged. Lyesha resolved to ask her new husband. She executed another military bow, and left to do just that.  
   She found him, after inquiring of the eunuch outside Her Ladyship’s door, in the chamber across the hall. He was putting away what looked to be personal belongings, from a smallish box.  
   She rapped on the open doorframe. He looked up. No trace of surprise showed on his face, but perhaps he did not display emotion readily. She could respect that.  
   “May I help you?” he asked politely.  
   She leaned on the wooden frame, but it was not a relaxed pose. She was, as always, coiled and ready to spring into danger. She'd earned her position on the front lines of the Wild Zone, and occasionally filled in where necessary. It kept her sharp.  
   “You're the new Elder Consort, then?”  
   His eyes did not drop, though a faint blush graced his cheeks. She respected that, as well.  
   “Not by design, if that is your assumption. The Council decreed it necessary.”  
   Her brow ridge quirked on one side, in mute disbelief.  
   “Change is coming. They felt a stable influence on the Elder would be to the benefit of all. As you can see, I do not intend to share her bed. Her honor is safe with me.”  
   His color deepened when the bedroom was mentioned, but she made no comment. She was more interested in the change he spoke of. He refused to say any more, however, without the approval of his lady wife, or the Council.  
   “As Captain of the Sovereign Guard, you may approach either, am I correct?”  
   She nodded once, turned on her heel, and left. She hadn't learned what she'd gone there for, but left reassured. She was satisfied that the secrets of their people were safe with him, if he wouldn't even tell her what she already knew.  
   Though she was no Oracle, she'd been raised on the lore of the _kuren_ , the proper name for Crystal-Born. Her family was ancient, going back beyond the Founding. Their entire family line was dedicated to preserving their history, their culture, their language.  
   The Mimuri family remembered that the Great Collapse would happen. They knew the day would come, when Kaia first entered the Cavern. It was, in fact, her family who helped build the city within Her shell. Mimuri kin dragged the shells of deceased tantos onto shore, to be cleaned and prepared for habitation. They thanked the merfolk who guided them to land with the trinkets left behind by the dead.  
   The Mimuri clan remained pure throughout the centuries, as well. If one of them mated with another species, they were cast out. There was no ill will toward the outcast members, but they could no longer use the Mimuri name.  
   In fact, Lady Ealishe was herself descended from one of those outcast clan members. Lyesha did not keep the records, so she could not say on which side; but when she consulted the Historian, she was told that the new Elder was a distant relative of hers. She would have to consult Raslir again, now that the Elder had married.

   Raslir Mimuri shuffled ahead of his cousin thrice removed, into the obsessively neat workspace he used for present-day recordkeeping. He scanned the shelves, looking for the “K” section. He grumbled about the frequency of marriages, because he had to move a file each time one of their kin married.  
   “Kindreth, you say? Hmm… ah, here he is. I have quite an extensive file on him. Nine children, by four wives.”  
   Lyesha stiffened. “If he's in your files, then he is related to the Elder!”  
   Raslir waffled a hand at her. “Bah! I doubt they are closely related. Let me consult the family tree.”  
   He scuffed his way out back. Because their family was so very ancient, the family tree was etched into the dry interior of Kaia’s shell. It sprawled hither and thither, beginning from the top. She knew how her ancestors reached the pinnacle, and it never ceased to amaze her. She couldn't even _see_ the first names!  
   Raslir scanned the bottom row until he found the pertinent parents of both parties. He stretched as high as he could, following the jagged lines of heritage. When he could reach no further, he asked Lyesha to lift him onto her sturdy shoulders.  
   This was nothing new. Lyesha, being the masculine variant of the female gender, was as strong as a male. Raslir was cis male, but he'd spent all of his life indoors, cramped over a writing surface. She was often called to perform this service for him.  
   He squinted at the lines, one bony finger on each, watching them slowly inch closer. But as far as he could stretch, they never got closer than the length of his forearm.  
   He jotted the two names at the end of his reach on the sleeve of the aforementioned forearm, to research in the archives later.  
   “Any relation they have is so ancient as to be irrelevant, but I am curious to see what distant ancestor they share.”  
   Lyesha set him on the ground. “So there is no risk of deformation?”  
   He swatted the air dismissively. “None. With the injection of orc, elf, and human genes into their lineage, I'd even say there is a possibility of many healthy children. That's just the history I saw, mind you. There could be other races mixed in that I have yet to uncover.” He skittered happily indoors, his mind already on the shelves of musty tomes.  
   Lyesha shook her head at her eccentric cousin. She knew that the family tree was written on paper, but it was so long and wide that it was broken up by branch. It was easier for him to see the whole tree. She looked up the high, shadowed curve of Kaia’s shell sadly. One day, all too soon, that shell was going to crack, and the darkness her family fought for generations would flood through. She lay a hand on the weathered shell briefly, in thanks for all She had done for their kind.


	26. Sheith and Lili

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Sheith, learn a bit about his past. Meron approaches the Council.

Sheith straightened his room, deep in thought. He thought of his life before he was abducted. He remembered his mother and father. He remembered his little sister.  
    _So why don't they remember me? Why has no one come to save me from this life? I don't even know what I did that Bishop Krakk thought I deserved to be punished!_  
   He slumped onto the tiny chair allotted him, depressed. He hadn't thought about his past in years. Why were these memories haunting him today, of all days?  
   He picked up a brush without really thinking about it, and began the long process of untangling his sapphire mane. There wasn't much to do in this place besides think, and attend personal hygiene.  
   The day Bishop Krakk dropped him off, he was thirteen and frightened. The woman who opened the door was large, imposing. Two equally large men flanked her.  
   “Thiss child has been abandoned,” he croaked. Sheith started to object that he hadn't, he'd only been exploring the gardens, but the cranky old bird clutched his face against his pungent robes. He could barely breathe, let alone protest.  
   “Sshe is a pretty child; far too pretty for the orphanage,” the foul bird squawked. Sheith struggled against the foul robes, trying to tell someone, anyone, that he was none of the things the old man said.  
   “She has spirit, I see. Very well, bring her into the light.”  
   The woman and her bodyguards went inside. The Bishop let go of his face. Something sweet-smelling was immediately placed over his muzzle, and suddenly everything seemed pleasantly fuzzy.  
   He tottered along beside the Bishop, no longer minding the pungent herbal scent of his robes. He allowed the large woman to strip him to his underthings, and twirl him in a circle. She pinched a lock of hair between her fingers, poked him in various places, and even stroked his skin. Had he been himself, he would have bitten the hand that dared touch his tail, but he'd been drugged. He was sure of it now.  
   Later, when he was clear-headed, he found out what sort of place this was. He was subjected to more touching, this time by someone closer to his age. It was she who discovered that he was a boy, but she told him it didn't matter here.  
   “Some people like that, you know. Don't worry, you won't have to do much of anything. Lots of men are fine with just lying back and daydreaming.” She got a faraway look in her eye. “I like to dream of going Above. I came from there, actually. My parents were killed, and my aunt didn't want me, so she brought me here. Some wandering merchant told her about this place. I've been here ever since.” She smoothed the thin dress that concealed nothing.  
   He'd been ashamed when the sight gave him his first erection. He didn't know what was happening to him, but she did. She told him her name was Myrrah, and she was there to educate him.  
   “Educate”, he would learn, meant “seduce”. She taught him the art of sex, for many weeks. When the large woman decided he'd learned all he could, she sent him another girl named Sarah. After Sarah were several more girls.  
   And then they sent him his first male tutor. Myrrah did warn him that some men liked little boys. He didn't know what to do. He floundered, fourteen now, and frightened all over again. Beel was gentle with him, but firm. It was he who taught him the rules. “This is not allowed,” he would say. “If they ask for it, give them this.”  
   And then he would show the poor lad what clients liked. The boy who began life as straight as an arrow learned to, as Myrrah put it, “lie back and daydream.”  
   He fought Beel, the first time. The half elf, half Crystal-Born warned him not to continue to fight.  
   “You don't want Ordo to come in my stead.”  
   No one knew _what_ Ordo was, but everyone learned to fear him. Some whispered that he was half dwarf, half earth elemental. Others thought he was an orc, despite the lack of tusks. He himself did not know his origins. Sometimes he bragged of kobold blood, despite not having scales. Sometimes he said he was the spawn of a troll and a devil. He didn't have horns, either.  
   What people feared the most wasn't his uncertain lineage, though. What they feared was what Magda let him do. He actually liked when boys or girls fought him. If they didn't fight him in the bedroom, it always ended up there. He would drag some recalcitrant child out of the bath, or dining hall, or wherever they were acting out, and they would always return pale and shaken. There were never bruises, at least not where anyone could see. Without fail, they whispered not to make him angry.  
   Sheith knew firsthand what that beast did to his prey. He couldn't remember what he'd done, but he was angry that his parents hadn't rescued him. He rebelled, thinking that he would be thrown out into the streets. Ordo set him straight, none too gently.  
   As he lay in a puddle of myriad bodily fluids, Ordo coldly informed him that if he did not comply, he would be thrown in a less hospitable brothel. One run by goblins, as the rumor went.  
   Sheith rarely fought after that.  
  _It's been fifteen years already. How did that happen?_ He absently ran the brush through his waist-length cobalt waves. The passage of time in a place with no windows was distorted. He could not see the morning sun filter through the Crystals in the ceiling, nor the brightening of the phosphorescent fungi at night. The ones along their walls maintained a constant dim glow, having no outside influence.  
   He had heard the humming of the Crystals, two days prior. Everyone did. It vibrated through the walls and floor of every building in the Caverns. He knew what it meant, of course. Unlike his sister, he'd paid attention to his history lessons.  
   He briefly entertained the hope that the new Elder would dismantle this abomination of an establishment, but he knew they could never accomplish such a feat. Many high-ranking people made use of it. For all he knew, the Elder himself might enter this house of whores.  
    _They might give us pretty names, but that is what we are,_ he thought bitterly.  
   He hurled the brush across the tiny cubicle in which he performed. It bounced off the strings of his harp, sending a discordant clang echoing off the thick walls.

   Monk Meron attempted to brush his daughter's blue-black hair, but she was squirming. She wanted to be outside, running free. She'd been cooped up for four years, and she'd developed a distaste for being inside.  
   In the end, Meron opted to pull the unruly locks into a ponytail. It wasn't as pretty as he'd have liked, but she was impatient.  
   She fidgeted through breakfast, having to be told repeatedly to actually eat what was in front of her.  
   Finally, he told her that they were not leaving until she finished her food. These were the magic words. Thereafter, he had to tell her to slow down and chew.  
   When she was done, she shot toward the door. He scooped her up and brought her back to their room for shoes. She fought him, but he sternly informed her that shoes were required when one went outside. She sat still until they were on, then she was off like a shot.  
   Meron sighed. It seemed they would have another full-throttle day. The first order of business was to get the proper documentation to take her home with him.  
   He thought Lili would be glad to return to the place she grew up, but when she realized where the sled was going, she threw herself side to side.  
   “ _No!_ Don't wanna go back!” she shrieked.  
   “Shh, sweetling, you're not going back to stay. Papa just needs to get a paper from the Doma. Don't you want to see what's beyond the Cavern?”  
   Lili froze in his arms. “Outside?” she asked uncertainly.  
   “Yes, sweetling. Outside.”  
   She didn't fight him when he walked to the door, but she did whimper to be picked up.  
   The eunuch was surprised to see Meron when he opened the door. “Too much of a handful, eh?”  
   Meron hastened to reassure him of the real reason for his visit.  
   “Oh, we don't do that here. People usually clear it with the Council before they apply.”  
   Meron strove for patience. “Is there anything I need from you before I go to this Council of yours?”  
   The eunuch shook his head. “Naw, you just tell ‘em where you got her, and they do the rest.”  
   Meron asked if he needed the name of Lili’s mother. The eunuch’s reply was a swift negative.  
   “We provide anonymity both ways. The Council keeps it confidential, and so do we.”  
   The monk guessed that the only reason the eunuch knew either word was because of his job. Unsure he would like the answer, he asked how long it took to get the documents he needed.  
   “That I don't know. We just got a new Elder, though, so it might take longer than usual.”  
   The man didn't seem malicious, so Meron bowed and boarded the sled that kindly waited for him. Could he say that a sled was kind? _No matter,_ he thought. _I've got bigger issues to worry about._  
   “I hope you know where this Council is,” he said to the sled. It obligingly bobbed toward a building quite near the workshop he'd seen the broken sled taken into.  
   This building was roughly twice the size of the workshop, and _that_ was as big as the Brood Palace! He didn't know if it was merely meant to impress petitioners like himself, or if the Councilors lived there. The structure stood tall enough to have three stories, but he'd seen enough governmental buildings to guess that they would only carve two out of the domed building. As he expected, all of the crystals matched perfectly. Ostentatious, to be sure.  
   He nodded to the elaborately-garbed Crystal-Born lady on his way in, and to her half orc companion. Neither seemed to notice him as they passed. The half orc had eyes for none but his lady, who stumbled badly. He was never very good at telling any of the less human races apart, and he did not know that there was only one half orc, half Crystal-Born person in the Cavern; Oracle or otherwise. For all he knew, there could be half a dozen in the Cavern.  
   He briefly thought about offering his healing services, but there was no telling how much red tape he was about to wade through. He would need all of his faculties to handle the task ahead.  
   He heard the jangle of beads as she collapsed. He turned to help, but her companion already had her in his arms. He strode toward the largest structure in the Cavern, presumably the Elder’s Quarters.  
   The sight of the half-orc carrying a limp lavender lady toward _that_ building snapped everything in place in his mind.  
   He'd just seen the new Elder.


	27. Another Matter of Precedent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meron was right about red tape.

Meron allowed Lili to run in circles around the antechamber while they waited. Her open-toed sandals slapped on the soft ground, louder than he thought should be possible. The clerk frowned down his long nose at him, but he ignored the gnome. He kept an eagle eye on his daughter, in case she tried to climb into a planter. She'd done that the day before, because there were mushrooms she'd never seen before.  
   The elf clerk who had run off to inform the Council of his purpose returned after an hour. Lili had grown bored, and begun playing with his face. She was tugging on an eyebrow when the woman puffed to a stop in front of them.  
   “They will see you now,” she panted.  
   He rose, with Lili still wiggling his brow up and down, and followed her into the Council Chamber. Around a large, circular table sat twelve persons of varying age, gender, and species.  
   A human woman on the opposite side of the room, approximately in her fifties, rose to verbally welcome him. She did not approach, he noticed. Was the table with its crystal chairs supposed to intimidate him? It would take more than that to frighten Monk Meron.  
   He bowed as low as he could while holding a toddler. “Meron Kurai, High Monk of Kirishii,” he said by way of introduction.  
   “We recognize your rank and position,” said a venerable elf woman of indeterminate age.  
   “I presume the clerk informed you of my purpose?”  
   “She did. This is most unusual, you must know. Typically, this request is made _before_ the petitioner receives their offspring.” The Crystal-Born Councilor was displeased by his break in tradition.  
   Meron shifted Lili to his other arm. “It was unavoidable, I'm afraid. I was called away on official business.” He debated telling them the rest, but he couldn't decide whether it would help or hurt his cause.  
   “You left the _damii_ of yourr offsprring, not knowing how long it would be until yourr returrn? Not knowing _if_ you would returrn?”  
   He turned to address the catkin, given little choice but to expose his ignorance. “In the interest of full disclosure, I was not aware of the nature of the establishment. I made a faulty assumption.”  
   Lili chose that moment to blurt “My daddy kills demons!” Her shrill voice echoed the length of the room, and caused Meron to wince. He patted her cheek fondly, but made no comment.  
   There was a titter from a couple of Councilors.  
   “Be that as it may, you should have returned before she was born. There is no precedent for a request like this.” The halfling stood to make his observation.  
   Meron groaned inwardly.  
   “We cannot solve _this_ irregularity with marriage,” the Crystal-Born Councilor said dryly.  
   Meron didn't know what prompted such a suggestion, but he was too much a free spirit to agree to such a term anyway. Lili’s mother was lovely and talented, but he did not relish spending his life with someone as emotionally detached as her. If he ever wedded, it would be someone warm and giving. That was a rather large if, however.  
   “How may I correct this unforeseen oversight?” he asked.  
   The Councilors looked to one another, but no answer was forthcoming. They whispered amongst themselves, but no one had any ideas.  
   Finally, the Oracle Advisor suggested that they table the matter until the Elder was present.  
   Meron ground his teeth to avoid an inadvisable outburst. “I saw her leave just now, and I doubt that will be anytime soon. She collapsed before she reached her home.”  
   There were startled gasps, and concerned whispers. The pale elf cleared her throat loudly, effectively silencing the murmurs.  
   “Since you require the Lady Elder’s presence, it seems to be in your best interest to offer your healing services, my good monk.”  
   He shifted Lili again and bowed his way out of the Council Chamber. She was right, of course. He needed her healthy, in order to grant him the documents he needed. Maybe if she met Lili, she would be more inclined to help. Yes, that's just what he'd do.  
   “Lili, would you like to see the Elder with me?”  
   It was a rhetorical question. He hadn't anyone to watch her while he peddled his services, but he liked to let her know what was happening. She seemed to like being given the illusion of a choice, and he liked talking to her. He never knew what she would say, sometimes.  
   She gave the question serious thought. “If you fix her, we can go to the big outside?”  
   Her grasp of the situation astounded him. “Yes, sweetling. How clever you are!” He kissed her cheek enthusiastically.  
   Lili didn't know what to make of that. She'd never been kissed before, and hugs were usually just a way of restraining her. She was slowly learning that hugs didn't always mean painful tugs on her scalp, or cold baths. What did this new thing mean?  
   Meron saw her confusion, and felt a renewed desire to teach her the gentler aspects of life.  
   He walked up to the door that was twice as tall as he, manned by a eunuch that was also taller than him. He was probably stronger than the brunette, but if it came down to a fight, he'd already lost.  
   “Greetings, good sir. I could not help but see the state your Lady Elder is in. I have come to offer my humble healing services.” He bowed lower than ever, making Lili giggle.  
   The eunuch raised his eyebrows at the small child on his arm. “I doubt you will be of any use to her,” he said stiffly.  
   Meron shifted her again. “Apologies. I am a new father, with no one to watch my daughter. However, I assure you that I have treated all manner of ailments. May I be permitted to try?”  
   The man softened, but only slightly. He rapped the door behind him in a pattern he didn't recognize. Out stepped a man who stood a full head taller than him, skin dark as the night. He took a reflexive step back; whether from fear or respect, he could not say.  
   “Please repeat your request,” the soft-spoken eunuch said, a trifle smugly. He knew the effect Zezu had on people.  
   To his credit, Meron made his request without a tremor. He was battle-hardened, as the recent scars attested. Few things truly terrified him.  
   Zezu cocked his clean-shaven head, seeming to think. After some time, he shrugged and held the door open. The other eunuch shrugged as well, and stepped aside.  
   He'd passed a test, and he didn't even know it.


	28. Chi Manipulation with a Toddler

The silent eunuch led him to a door in an irregularly-shaped hallway and motioned for him to wait. He knocked briefly before entering. He barely waited for any reply that might be forthcoming.  
   Meron stood in the hall, unsure whether to follow. A curt gesture from the silent man answered that. He stopped on the threshold, at a loss for words. It was not the Elder who stood beside a small table.  
   It was the half-orc.  
   “I'm not sure you understood, sir. I offered to heal the Elder. This man is obviously in stellar health.”  
   The eunuch cocked a hairless brow at him. He sighed. This was a test, then.  
   He cautiously approached the giant, soothing an anxious Lili at the same time. “My name is Meron Kurai, High Monk of Kirishii. It seems that I am to assess your health, sir. Do I have permission?”  
   He was further surprised when the orc laughed. Lili, unfortunately, was frightened by the sound.  
   The man sobered, eyes glowing an anxious gold. “I'm sorry, little one. I did not mean to scare you. Here, see? I am harmless.” He extended one massive paw, palm up.  
   Meron gently prodded her elbow. “Lili, it is polite to shake hands when you meet someone new.” Lili peeked out from her father's shoulder, face tear-stained.  
   Gromm never stood a chance.  
   She put one tiny hand in his, and he melted. Instead of shaking her hand, he kissed the back of it.  
   “Pleased to meet you, Lili.”  
   She giggled. His beard _tickled!_ She immediately grabbed a braid and yanked.  
   Meron tried to snatch her hand away, but Gromm just laughed again. He even offered her another braid for her other chubby fist. She happily latched on and tugged, giggling madly.  
   “Sweetling, daddy needs to examine the nice man.”  
   Gromm chuckled. “If you're that insistent, I can hold the lass while you poke and prod.”  
   Meron asked Lili what she thought of the idea. She stuffed one of the braids in her mouth and shrugged. Gromm lifted her onto one bulging forearm, smiling indulgently.  
   The monk just shook his head at his own preconceived notions and began the examination. He did not, as Gromm assumed, “poke and prod”. His methods were more arcane. He perched on the chair behind the orc and motioned for him to stand in front of him.  
   He centered himself as best he could atop the massive head of an ancient being, and sent his mostly-recovered personal energies into the mass of man before him.  
   What he Saw nearly blinded him. The Oracle appeared as a glowing mountain to his Othersight. It was difficult to tell one body part from another in the vast brightness.  
   He asked Gromm to move body parts, one at a time, to ascertain what was what. It surprised him to learn that his daughter glowed too, though not as brightly.  
   He tested each limb’s _chi_ and found it more than healthy. He Felt a strong heartbeat, and his lungs Sounded good. When he reached his head, he did not at first understand what he was Seeing.  
   “Have you recently suffered some sort of psychic strain?”  
   The orc rumbled what he could only assume was assent. Since he was essentially blind, he did not know that his daughter had pinched Gromm’s lips together.  
   He did what he could to untangle the knotted lines of chi, being careful not to work too swiftly. The man was holding his daughter, and restoring the flow too rapidly could cause the patient to become lightheaded.  
   He drew his energies back into himself, feeling strangely energized. He closed his third eye and saw the world again as a mortal. He had to stifle a laugh when he saw Lili pulling the poor man's brow ridge down on one side.  
   “Better?” he asked, struggling to keep a straight face.  
   Gromm smiled. “Much. Did you say you were wanting to do the same for my lady wife?”  
   Meron choked. “You're married to the..? Of course, I should have realized. Erm, yes, I was offering my services to Her Ladyship when I was brought here. I saw her collapse outside the Council Chambers.” He cursed silently. Mentioning the Council might have exposed his ulterior motive.  
   Gromm gently pried Lili’s hand off of his ear and set it instead on one twisted horn. “As long as he doesn't have a problem with it, I don't.” He indicated the silent man in the doorway.  
   Meron faced the dark eunuch and waited for his verdict.  
   Zezu walked back out the door without a word. Meron rolled his eyes, but gamely followed. At least, he tried to. Lili wouldn't let go of Gromm’s horns.  
   The orc shrugged at the human and carried Lili into his wife's room. It was highly unorthodox, but no one seemed to mind. Murmur, as she'd dubbed the soft-spoken eunuch, smiled indulgently and closed the front door. Zezu had the monk in hand, and the little girl had Gromm in hand.


	29. Healing with a Toddler

Ealishe looked up when her door opened. She smiled at Zezu, thinking he'd come to help her out of the elaborate gown. The smile became a puzzled frown when she saw the holy man. They'd already been married _once!_ Surely, he didn't expect…  
   That thought died aborning when she saw her rock, her Kindred, holding a tiny child on one formidable forearm. A smile tugged at her lips to see the toddler clinging to his horns and singing some nonsense verse. She could not help but tease him.  
   “Well, well, not even married a day, and you've brought a child home.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously.  
   The holy man coughed. “Greetings, My Lady Elder. The child is mine, but she seems to have taken a liking to your noble husband.”  
   Her brow ridge furrowed. “I was not aware that priests had families. Pray, where is your wife?”  
   He blushed. “I, ah, don't have one, milady. Lili is a child of the Brood Palace.”  
   She was nonplussed. “The what?”  
   He smiled ruefully. “I was not aware of its purpose either, until just yesterday. It does not surprise me that a noble lady such as yourself would be ignorant of it, as well.  
   “However, that is not entirely why I am here. I come to offer my humble healing services.”  
   Gromm vouched for him. “He is no Oracle Healer, but what he does works remarkably well.”  
   Anxious to be free of the bed, Ealishe readily agreed. “But first, my personal eunuch must see me properly attired. This gown is lovely, but uncomfortable.” She speared Zezu with a look that condemned him for leaving her confined within the ornate concoction.  
   Unfazed, he motioned for the two men and a little lady to leave. When they were gone, and the door was closed, he helped her out of the silky confines of Council regalia.  
   “I know that you know the circumstances of my marriage,” she scolded him. “Until I say otherwise, I will require assistance with dressing, do I make myself clear?”  
   She glared crimson daggers at him, clad in nothing but her undergarments. He merely inclined his head and tugged a soft, green day dress over her head. He moved behind her to tie the laces around and above her fledgling wings. Then came the snaps that secured the skirt around the hole for her tail. Some skirts split in the back, but leggings had to be worn underneath them, and she wanted comfort above all else.  
   When she was dressed, she lay against the pillows, breathing slightly harder. Her color was paler than he liked. Zezu arranged the blankets around her, then let the monk and her husband in.  
   Meron noted the pallid nature of her skin, and the rapid breathing.  
   “Someone's been overdoing it, I see.” He tsked like the father he'd been for so little time. “Well, let's see what we can do about that.”  
   He sat in what she'd come to think of as Gromm’s chair. He didn't touch her, as she expected. He sort of… unfocused his eyes, and looked at her. No, it felt more like he looked _through_ her.  
   He asked her to move her limbs, one at a time. Each time she did as he asked, she felt a bit better. He looked through her torso, and her breathing eased. Her cheeks suffused with healthy byzantine color. Then he looked her in the face. It was strange, being seen and yet not seen.  
   Abruptly, images filled her mind. Some she'd seen, some she had yet to discover from the overload of information. Her body jerked erratically, though she did not feel it.  
   Gromm knew what she was experiencing. He'd seen things too, to a lesser extent. There was less that he had not untangled, and all of it was personal impressions of Ealishe. Whatever the monk did, he was at peace with his lot in life. The conflicting emotions no longer plagued his thoughts. He was still unsure of his feelings toward his wife, but the uncertainty did not trouble him anymore.  
   He wanted to go to her, hold her, but Lili was methodically working to unravel the top of his braid. Ealishe twisted, moaned, trying to escape the visions that flashed before her eyes.  
   The monk began to perspire, but his focus was intense. No matter how she writhed, he held on. Gromm began to sweat, as well. The urge to protect was strong. He compromised by protecting Lili. If he could not hold his wife, he would hold this tiny child, and distract her from her father's work.  
   After an eternity, both Ealishe and the monk slumped forward. Gromm was close enough to catch his wife. Meron caught himself on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily.  
   Meron did not remain propped against the bed for long. He sat straight, testing his balance, and requested food.  
   “I think a good meal would do us all some good,” he said. Though he was alert and coherent, his eyes were glassy.  
  _That man is running on borrowed energy,_ Zezu thought. _If he does not replenish his stores, he will drop like a stone._ He gave the knock for food to be brought. His Lady Elder was looking more herself, which was well. The gamble in allowing a strange monk into her inner sanctum had paid off.  
   Snow promptly entered with refreshments. The beauty of living where no fires could be lit was that cold food was always on hand. The Elder’s Quarters had the rare luxury of a cold box. Instead of having to prepare food daily, the kitchen eunuch could create incredible delicacies and chill them. Being situated over Kaia’s neck, and under the dome of her shell’s head cone, it grew rather warm. The cold box had been a gift from the Deep Elves when they were granted sanctuary.  
_I wonder how many will choose to make the journey to_ Oban’dal, Zezu thought. _We should send a messenger soon._  
   The human and the Crystal-Born kin broke bread together. This would be unheard-of in some cultures, he knew. It saddened him to see this utopia crumble. Where would the families of mixed race find succor? Would the _kuren_ choose to stay behind with their families, unable to venture outside in daylight? Would they divorce their spouses, and take their children to the _kuren_ homeland?  
   Many difficult decisions were indeed ahead. He was heartily glad that he could not reproduce. These things would never trouble him. Although, seeing the tiny humanoid, he did wonder what it would have been like to raise a family.


	30. Family Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Elder learns more about the Brood Palace and its quiet function in society.

Monk Meron fed his daughter pieces of everything he ate. He'd quickly learned that she would eat off his plate no matter what, so using only one saved trouble, in his mind.  
   Ealishe watched them, feeling the first twinges of maternal instinct. She hadn't so much as touched the little girl, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. If holding a child turned someone into the soft, dewy-eyed person her Kindred had become, she wanted no part of it! He glanced at her when he thought she wasn't looking, and she didn't like what she saw. She did not forget that they were technically married. He might begin to think that he had certain rights, where she was concerned.  
  _I know he said we'd be nothing but roommates,_ she thought. _But I see how he looks at her, and how he's looking at me right now._  
   She sipped her tea, irritated with the world. She did not know that tea could be served hot, but she did wish there was something that would warm her chilled body. She had no knowledge of spirits, either. She was simply tired of eating and drinking cold things.  
   The chill she felt was purely emotional. She could see in her husband's eyes the end of her freedom, and she despised it.  
   Gromm was indeed thinking about children of his own. He did not necessarily desire _her_ children, but with the uncertainties ahead, a child represented hope.  
   Abruptly, Ealishe asked Meron how the Brood Palace worked. All eating ceased. Silverware clacked against plates. The monk flushed, studiously cleaning Lili’s face to avoid meeting her gaze.  
   “What? It is a legitimate question.” She looked from one man to the other, willing one of them to answer her.  
   Meron needed her to understand his plight, so he enlightened her, quite reluctantly.  
   “They examine the, ah… prospective parent... very thoroughly.” His color deepened. “I think they check character references, but I could only supply the name of the serving woman at the inn.  
   “Then they send you to a long room, with women standing in a line. They are forbidden from making eye contact, which I was told preserves anonymity. You pick the one you want, and… I presume I don't need to explain the particulars of intercourse.  
   “After nine months, you retrieve your baby, and that's it. Unfortunately, I was called away on urgent business the next day. I was unable to return until recently. Apparently, I was to have obtained some sort of paperwork before Lili was born. As I said, however, I did not know the true purpose of the place until I was handed my daughter.”  
   He braced himself for the snickers he'd received thus far, but neither of them laughed. He heard what might have been a chuckle from the eunuch, but the Lady and her Consort simply looked concerned.  
   “I gather they cited precedent at you?” she asked bitterly.  
   “As a matter of fact, they did. They said that a marriage wouldn't solve the problem, though I've no idea why it would even occur to them. I didn't even... know her… name…” he finished slowly. When he mentioned marriage, neither of his companions could look at the other. The Elder turned slightly fuchsia, and her husband paled. He looked from one to the other, and it dawned on him what had happened. He was wise enough to keep the knowledge to himself.  
   “Anyway, it's all rather painless, until you get to the paperwork. It only took a few days to, ah… And the women are skilled, so there's less pressure. As conception goes, there are worse methods.”  
   He sipped his cold tea to stem the tide of nervous chatter. Lili, oblivious to the adult drama, happily destroyed a fluffy biscuit.  
   Ealishe firmly decided that if her husband wanted children, he could go about it that way. She did not say as much, but if he asked, she knew now what her answer would be. She didn't know what mating involved, and she did not care to.  
   “I imagine it must be pleasant, and typically uncomplicated. Have you any suggestions for solving your particular situation?” She sipped her tea, unaware that she'd been so blasè about something that changed lives.  
   The only person in the room that knew firsthand how “pleasant” it was choked on his tea. He recovered enough to say that he didn't see why there was an issue at all.  
   “Why does it matter _when_ I acquire the paperwork? She was perfectly safe, though enrichment was sorely lacking. The poor thing doesn't know what affection is, and she acts like she's never been outside.” He kissed the top of her head, which mildly alarmed her until she realized it was benign.  
   “But Papa, I _wasn't_ allowed outside!” she whimpered.  
   Ealishe patted her chubby little arm. When she realized she'd touched the child, her hand dropped. She glanced through her lashes to see if Gromm noticed her lapse. His paw still rested on her tiny back. Their fingers had been far too close together for him to miss it. She cursed inwardly.  
   “Perhaps there is a different tack you could take,” she said, outwardly calm. Her hands were firmly clasped in her lap. “Tell the Council about her welfare before you came for her. She doesn't appear malnourished, just… lonely..?”  
   Meron nodded thoughtfully. “They may wish to investigate the Brood Pens themselves, however. That will take time. I'd hoped to be home within the fortnight.”  
   Gromm’s hand dropped to his thigh. “When you have children, everything takes twice as long. That's what my father always said.” His eyes strayed again to his wife, but he would not broach the subject of a family so soon after a forced wedding.  
   “Well, it was a pleasure having you, Monk Meron, but I should like to rest. I have a big day tomorrow, as do you. I would ask that you give us until at least the afternoon to address the matters that were interrupted by my… illness, before you approach the Council.” She rose abruptly, as was her custom, and this time, she remained on her feet. She thrust a hand out in farewell.  
   Meron shook her hand, bade Lili to tell the nice people goodbye. She stuck one talon in her mouth and wobbled her chubby fist in farewell.  
   When they were gone, Gromm sat with his arms crossed, staring at his wife. She calmly sipped her tea, and nibbled on pastries, but he wouldn't leave. Finally, she snapped.  
   “What are you still sitting there for?” She was afraid he would ask if she wanted children, and she didn't want to talk about that.  
   “You're up to something, and I am not leaving until I know what.”  
   Her eyelid twitched. “What makes you say that?”  
   He crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. “You were in a hurry to see him out, and now you want me to leave.”  
   She fussed with her teaspoon, not meeting his eyes. “It's nothing, really. I just thought I'd read my books.” Her mouth pursed like she'd eaten a marsh lemon.  
   He leaned forward slightly. “Care to try that again?”  
   She glowered, her eyes two bright, sparkling rubies. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed. She wouldn't look him in the eye.  
   “I say again, I will not leave this room until I am satisfied.”  
   Zezu stifled a chuckle at his wording, but she heard it anyway. Her cheeks glowed a faint magenta.  
   She hurled her words like darts, at the wall to his left. “Fine, I was going to visit my mother.”  
   She wasn't lying, which confused him. He thought she didn't like her mother.  
   “You know that you cannot venture beyond your suite without an escort. All who live Below will recognize you.”  
   She defiantly told the wall that she could disguise herself. Gromm was openly skeptical.  
   “I could have my eunuch bind my wings to my back. They're still small enough to hide.”  
   Gromm scrubbed a hand down his face. “And why are you wanting to visit your mother, _alone?_ ”  
   She studied the wall, a bit further to his left. Eventually, she admitted that she lived with her mother, and she hadn't returned in days. “And I'd like to ask her about some female things,” she added grudgingly.  
   Regardless of the circumstances of their marriage, he understood. She might think that he would expect his marital rights, despite their verbal agreement.  
   He sighed, long and low. “I will help you, this one time.”  
   Her eyes swung to his. “I never asked for your help. The point of the disguise is that I won't need a bodyguard.”  
   He dropped his foot to the floor and leaned toward her again. “I will not allow you to risk your life, as My Lady, or my wife. Like it or not, I'll not leave your side. I will give you privacy with your mother, but outside of her home or ours, I am your Guardian.” He leaned back. “Unless you'd rather have a uniformed Guardian at your side, of course. Or a eunuch, perhaps?”  
   Zezu grinned broadly. They were too embroiled in their argument to notice. _You have met your match,_ he thought. He wasn't sure which he would have spoken the words to, had he the leisure.  
   She growled, teeth making a brief appearance. He had her over a barrel, and he knew it. A Guardian's uniform would render her disguise moot.


	31. Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Elder goes to visit her mother, and ask some personal questions.

“Fetch me something to bind my wings with,” Ealishe snarled at her eunuch. “And a tunic and leggings,” she added. A tunic would be loose enough to disguise any residual bulge.  
   She waited for Zezu to return with her arms and legs crossed, saying nothing. She attempted to ignore her husband, who was perfectly comfortable in silence.  
   The eunuch returned with the items she requested. He began unlacing her gown, but Gromm did not step outside as he usually did. She glared at him, to no avail. She clutched the front of her gown and informed him that she needed privacy.  
   Gromm pushed away from the table and stalked toward her. She backed against the mahogany chest of her eunuch, who stood firm. Her husband picked up the bindings on his silent approach.  
   Zezu guessed his intent. He turned his Lady Elder by her shoulders, exposing her fledgling wings to the half-orc. Gromm carefully placed the wrap over the rubbery folds. He handed the silent man the fabric, and he covered her nubile breasts. She clutched the skirt of the dress around her waist.  
   They passed the binding back and forth; the Oracle wrapping her fragile wings, and the eunuch handling the delicate bosom. This protected both her virginity, and her budding wings.  
   Zezu could have bound her wings without help, but he understood Gromm’s concern. His previous Lady Elder was never able to soar over the ocean waves, due to some careless handling when she was Chosen. He allowed the man to interfere, for his peace of mind. If they hadn't been married, it would have been a different story.  
   Now bound properly, she swept the tunic off the bed and yanked it over her head. She pulled the leggings on beneath the rumpled gown and long tunic, keeping her back to her husband. She skimmed the skirt over the leggings and thrust it at the dark eunuch.  
   She swung around and stormed out the door. Unruffled, Gromm followed at her heel.  
   She marched past Murmur, who was pleasantly surprised to see her up and about. He would have fallen in step behind her, but Gromm was with her.  
   He saw the half-orc tug the back of her shirt, which turned out to be a hood, over her head. He didn't hear him whisper that the ornate beads on her braids were a giveaway, but he did see what appeared to be an intimate exchange.  
    _Perhaps they go to a secret trysting place,_ he thought, sighing at the romanticism of it. He could not copulate, but Murmur had a strong romantic streak. That had been the cause of the transfer to his previous Deep Elf master, but he refused to see it as a flaw.  
   Gromm easily kept pace with his fast-moving Lady. If she thought to lose him in the crowd, she was mistaken. He was the largest creature Below, and certainly one of the tallest. Only a handful of trolls were his height, and none of them blocked his view of her.  
   Ealishe cursed his speed. She'd hoped that he was all brawn. She failed to take into account his longer legs. Eventually, her stamina waned, and she had to slow to a walk.  
   “How much further is it to your mother's, My--” She jabbed him covertly in the side, mindful of the bystanders. “Dear,” he finished smoothly. She would never know if that was what he was intending to say. She didn't think to ask, forgetting that he could not lie.  
   “Not far, love.” The endearment stuck in her throat, but she was enjoying her anonymity too much to draw suspicion to them.  
   It had a different effect on her husband, who had to struggle to maintain a pleasant expression. Then he remembered that they weren't pretending to be married, they were pretending to be common folk. He allowed a goofy, lovestruck smile to tug at his tusks.  
   Ealishe was too intent on her goal to notice. She eyed everyone they passed, wondering if they guessed her identity. Some people saw her wariness, which in itself raised suspicion.  
   Gromm bent to whisper in her ear, sending shivers down her spine as his breath stirred the wispy hairs around her auditory channel. “If you do not relax, you will draw attention to yourself.”  
   Her eyes briefly closed, and her step faltered. The few who observed decided that her apprehension was due to her companion. Some thought to themselves “Doesn't she know we're open-minded Below? If she wants to court a half-orc, no one will judge her here.” Others just smiled at young love and moved on.  
   Gromm captured her hand in one large paw and squeezed reassuringly. She squeezed back once, before her hand lay passive in his grasp.  
   Her mother's house was modest, by most standards. The Crystals didn't match, but at least they were complementary colors. Livveth was an artist, after all.  
   Much to her dismay, it was Midrii who answered the door.  
   “We were wondering if you'd come back,” she said, in a tone that caused Gromm to take a step forward. He partially shielded his wife from the snide comment, which only served to make Midrii even more obnoxious. Ealishe covertly removed her hand from his, but the Deep Elf caught the motion.  
   “Oh, so _that's_ where you've been! Well, by all means, do come in.” The Deep Elf often thought if her fiancée’s daughter would just let her hair down, she might be easier to live with. It seemed she'd done just that.


	32. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ealishe's mother accidentally shatters her whole world.

Midrii motioned them toward the futon. “Have a seat. I'll go find your mother. She's probably in her studio.”  
   Ealishe was sick of sitting, having done little else for the past two days. She stood beside the futon, though she flicked a hand at it and glanced at Gromm with a raised eyebrow.  
   He shook his head and stood just behind her, and to one side. It unnerved her, so she sat. He sat next to her, closer than either would have liked, due to the size of the couch. He immediately stood and moved to her other side. That way, her mother, presumably much smaller than he, could sit down.  
   When Livveth breezed in, she was nonplussed by the sight that greeted her. “I'm sorry, Midrii said you brought a friend, but I wasn't expecting… Oh well, it's fine.”  
   She held out one dainty, paint-spattered hand for Gromm to shake. He was exceedingly careful not to squeeze her hand too hard. Where his Lady was full of wiry strength, this lady seemed much more fragile. Her fingers were longer, thinner. The talons were trimmed short, probably due to her work.  
   “Gromm of Darkwash, at your service.” He bowed over her hand, but did not kiss its back, as he did for Lili. This woman was engaged.  
   “Livveth Maniera, soon to be Livveth Sharrn. Pleased to meet you.” She glanced at Ealishe. “How did you meet my daughter?”  
   He answered truthfully, as if he could do aught else, deciding to take her literally. It was up to Ealishe whether or not to tell her mother of their marriage. “She was Chosen, ma'am. I was the one who found her.”  
   Livveth counted back, but she couldn't honestly remember if her daughter disappeared before or after the Crystals hummed.  
   Knowing her mother as she did, Ealishe conjured an emotion to make her eyes spark red. She didn't want to tell her anything, just yet. Oracles were given quarters in the dormitory, so she could move out with minimal fuss.  
   “Oh! Oh, how _wonderful!_ Does that mean you have to move into the dorm?” She sounded vaguely disappointed.  
   “I must move out, yes.” Skirting the truth made a lemony taste linger in her mouth, but she valiantly fought to keep a straight face.  
   Gromm saved her from scrutiny by informing her parents that he was her Kindred.  
   “Oh…” was all either woman could say. For different reasons, both hoped he was something more.  
   Ealishe bounced up and darted to her room upstairs. The women seemed to be accustomed to her rapid movements.  
   Gromm stood, immobile and silent, trying not to stare at either of her parents for too long. He was fine with silence, but the speculation in their eyes made him uncomfortable.  
   “Is it… normal for a man to be kindred to a girl?” Livveth asked hesitantly.  
   “I do not know, ma'am. I was assigned by the Revered Magi.”  
   “And you said you found her? After she was Chosen?”  
   He inclined his head. “Yes.”  
   Her brow ridge puckered with worry. “Why did she need to be found? Wouldn't she just walk up to the Magi afterwards?”  
   He was reluctant to worry her, yet he could not lie. “She was knocked unconscious. I carried her to the proper people. She would have returned sooner, but she was subsequently struck by Backlash.”  
   Midrii snorted. “Too impatient, I'd warrant.”  
   He could not dispute that without revealing everything, so he merely shrugged.  
   “She did mention that she had questions. Perhaps she would not feel comfortable asking them in front of a male that she has only known for two days.” He tilted his chin toward the ceiling to make his point.  
   “Oh! Yes, of course, I'll go to her now.”  
   Gromm privately wondered how many times in a day this woman said the word “oh”. When she went upstairs, he promptly told the Deep Elf that he would wait outside. He didn't know if this building had a back door, and he wanted to hear if she tried to slip away.

   Ealishe looked through her garment chest, sadly discarding most of her tunics and dresses. Few had room for her wings. She heard the door open and tensed, thinking it was her husband.  
   “I hear you wanted to speak to me?”  
   She spun toward her mother, eyes bright. “Yes! Oh, I am so happy my h--Kindred told you!” Livveth took the “h” sound as a pause, a struggle to remember the word. She had that problem, herself.  
   “How can I help, sweetness?”  
   Suddenly, Ealishe wished she could bury her face in her mother's lap and cry. She'd grown up in the past two days, and it was a painful process.  
   “Where I'm moving… there are many males,” she said, unsure whether the eunuchs still counted as male. “I don't know what… What should I expect? What if I like one? What do I do? What do I… not do? How do I know when the time is right?”  
   Her mother smiled that sappy smile she despised. “Time for what, dearest?”  
   Ealishe began pacing. “I don't _know!_ I've no idea what boys and girls do, when they aren't talking! Silence is so _awkward!_ And _he's_ no help! He _likes_ silence!” She jabbed a finger at the floor to indicate her taciturn Kindred.  
   “Oh, all Oracles are like that, dearest. I don't know why.”  
   Her mother would never think to ask why. It was a little reassuring to learn that all Oracles were like him, though.  
   “Well, how am I supposed to talk to someone who doesn't feel the same need to communicate? How will I ever know if… if an Oracle likes me? How will I know when I'm ready for… whatever comes next?” She didn't pause for answers to any of her questions, but her mother was used to this.  
   “Oh, you're growing up, sweetheart. It's awkward, painful, and nobody ever knows what they're doing.”  
   Ealishe threw her hands up. “ _That's_ helpful!”  
   Livveth set a hand on her sleeve as she passed. She paused to look down at her mother.  
   “It is, actually. If you remember that nobody else has the right answers, it's easier to accept mistakes; yours and theirs.”  
   She blinked at her mother. She wasn't the sort of person who gave useful advice. It took her by surprise to hear words of wisdom from the flighty artist.  
   She dropped on the bed next to the older woman. After a long silence, she plaintively asked if it was worth it.  
   Livveth thought about her answer longer than she expected. “It can be,” she said slowly. “You have to choose carefully, that much I've learned. My first husband didn't understand our way of life. He also didn't understand why I could never leave.”  
   Ealishe listened avidly. Her mother never spoke of her first husband; rarely mentioned her father.  
   “Your father was sweet, but he didn't love you two enough.”  
   Her spine stiffened. “Which two?”  
   Livveth blinked. She didn't seem to realize what she'd said. She'd spoken as one in a dream, and Ealishe inadvertently woke her up.  
   “Did someone else live here when I was a baby?”  
   Her mother tried to stand, but she grabbed her arm. “Mama, _please!_ I'm a full-grown woman now. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”  
   She pleaded with her voice and eyes, but all Livveth would say was this: “If you decide to have children, never let them out of your sight.”  
   She fell back, mouth agape. “Are you… saying that I have a sister somewhere?”  
   Livveth fled, tears in her eyes. Ealishe sat on her childhood bed, stunned. She had a sister out there, and she never knew. _How could she_ keep _that from me?!_ she thought angrily.  
   She threw whatever belongings were close at hand into her trunk, which until now had been used for blankets. She didn't care what stayed, and what went with her. She vowed never to return to this house of lies.  
   She dragged the thing down the stairs, uncaring of the racket. Gromm opened the door when he heard, and was quick to relieve her of it. He heaved it onto one broad shoulder and snagged her hand before she could dart out the door.  
   Many curious looks were aimed at the giant, with his trunk and unhappy companion. She glared mutinously at his broad back the entire way home.


	33. Tears and Fears

Gromm set the trunk at the foot of his Lady's bed, mindful of Kaia’s ancient hide.  
   “Why is it that the new Elder sulks all the way home? I would not pry, but something is eating at you.”  
   She dropped onto her bed and glared at the wall. Unbeknownst to either, Zezu left, to give them privacy.  
   Gromm stood in front of her, an implacable wall. “It is not healthy to harbor such grief.”  
   When she still refused to speak, he squatted down to her level. He cupped her stubborn, horned chin and gently, inexorably, forced her face toward his.  
   “If you cannot confide in a friend, who can you?”  
   Tears trickled down her winged cheeks, despite the set of her teeth. Her eyes wavered in a scarlet glow. Their eyes locked for an eternity, until she blurted “She _lied_ to me! For years, she lied to my face! I wish everyone was an Oracle. Then _nobody_ could lie!”  
   He pulled her into his arms. Her fists clenched in his shirt as she wept bitterly. Her little hands beat his ribs, but he was her rock. He could handle a few half-hearted blows. Her juvenile horns dug into his sternum, but his scales were tough beneath the leather jerkin.  
   He let her cry herself hoarse, and then he handed her a cup of cold tea to soothe her throat. The table was close enough that he barely had to stretch to reach the tea.  
   He did not ask what her mother lied about. That would come, in time. He did not sit on her bed, despite the cramps in his legs. Instead, he shifted to a more comfortable kneel, and waited.  
   Ealishe gulped the tea, heedless of appearances, then held out the cup for more. He filled it without a word. She drank some, then simply sat cradling the mug.  
   When she could stand the silence no more, she asked if Gromm had any siblings. He chuckled, and said that he had many.  
   “Are they like you?” she asked.  
   “Nah, My Lady, we're as different as the stars.”  
   He didn't say anything else, so she patted the bed beside her and bade him tell her about them. He started to shake his head, and her face fell. With a sigh that was purely internal, he put himself in the last place he wanted to be.  
   When he began talking about his many siblings, she tucked her feet under her tail and leaned into him like a small child. She asked questions here and there, toying with the end of one of her braids.  
   She shifted often, as though she were uncomfortable. Though she leaned into him, she held herself stiff. Eventually, it dawned on him that she still had her wings and breasts bound.  
   “Heyla, why didn't you remind me about this?” he chided, rapping the binding with a single knuckle.  
   She straightened away from him, blushing. She held her shoulders in a shrug.  
   “Is it tied in the front or the back?” he asked, not sure which was better.  
   “Dunno. I think he tucked it somewhere.”  
   It was then that they noticed Zezu’s departure.  
   Gromm sighed. “Alright, _rona_ , turn so I can see your back. You can check the front, yes?”  
   Ealishe hesitated. He'd been a gentleman while the eunuchs were present, but could she trust him when they were alone?  
   He turned her firmly away from him, waited until she stayed turned before lifting the back of her tunic. He didn't remove it, as she'd half feared. It seemed he was protecting her honor, despite the fact that technically, he didn't have to. They were married, after all.  
   She peeked under the front of her tunic, but she didn't see where the tuck was. She twisted and turned, to no avail. She looked questioningly over her shoulder, but Gromm shook his head.  
   She hung her head. There was nothing for it but to remove the tunic. Her only consolation was that her back was to him.  
   Gromm was about to get up and find one of her eunuchs--any eunuch--when his wife hauled the shirt over her head and hurled it at the wall. It was a few long, tense moments before he remembered his purpose.  
   He ran his thick fingers over the soft, sturdy fabric, hoping his coarse skin would catch on the hidden fold.  
   Likewise, Ealishe skimmed her talons up her torso. It was strangely sensuous, touching herself in places that clothing usually covered. The large paws that learned every curve and dip of her spine sent unfamiliar tingles down her legs.  
   When the fingertips of his hands grazed the edges of her breasts, electricity sizzled along her nerves. One hand tugged at the side of a swollen orb, and she thought she would die.  
   The pressure on her newly-awakened bosom eased, though her breathing suffered. It took her a moment to realize that he was holding the end of the binding out to her.  
   She blinked glassy eyes clear, unwound the front, and handed him the wad of material. He passed it back around, and the process repeated until she was free. Their fingers brushed with every pass, sending her heart racing. She never got her questions answered, so she didn't know what was happening to her.  
   Gromm never got to ask his father about it, but he knew he had to get out of this room, _soon_. She was trembling, and so was he. They were married, but he'd made a promise, and he intended to keep it.  
   She felt him tense and instinctively turned. Her budding bosom brushed his arm as he stood. He reacted as though he'd been burned, and tears filled her eyes again. Did he find her touch so unbearable, then? Was that why his hands shook?  
   She turned her face sharply, so he wouldn't see her cry, but he'd seen enough. He dropped to the bed again, pulled her backward into a one-armed embrace.  
   “Heyla, don't cry. What's wrong now?” He kept his arm well below her breasts, for sanity’s sake.  
   Ealishe leaned back against her rock and struggled to contain the tears. His jerkin was pleasantly scratchy against her wings.  
   “It's nothing, I'm just being silly,” she demurred.  
   Gromm sighed, disturbing the loose hairs around her horns. She shivered against his side.  
  _Oh,_ he thought. He decided it was _definitely_ time to leave. He kissed the top of her head, between her horns, and stood again.  
   “If you have need of me, you know where I will be. Good night, little one.” She wept, for no reason she could name, but she kept her face averted so he wouldn't see. She despised weakness of any kind.  
   She wordlessly waved him out, not trusting her voice.  
   His steps were as heavy as he ever allowed them to be, as he left his wife. He knew that she cried, and he thought he knew why, but he'd made a vow, and it was vital that she trust him to keep it. She was young, and momentarily vulnerable. He would not take advantage of her.  
   Ealishe had no such notions of honor. She crawled under the covers, half naked, and cried herself ragged. When her tears were spent, a cool cloth was pressed against her swollen eyes.  
   The abused orbits popped open, but it was only Zezu. She smiled her thanks, and took it from him. He offered her some _jaja_ next, for her parched throat. She smiled again when she handed him the empty cup. He returned the smile, and resumed his post.  
   She wondered why she was ever afraid of him. She drifted into an exhausted slumber, idly poking at the mystery of her personal eunuch.


	34. Growing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps this chapter should have been named growing pains, or growth.

Gromm did not sleep as soundly. He tossed and turned, tormented by a bare back, and small lilac wings. The touch of her breasts, fleeting though the contact was, made him warm all over.  
   He'd never felt this way before. His mother threatened to bring him Above, to find a comely orc lass, more than once. She thought it unnatural for her son to be a virgin at his age. She asked him once if he preferred boys, but the very idea appalled him. In the end, she'd thrown up her hands and despaired of ever having grandchildren.  
  _Maybe that's why she's looking for another husband,_ he thought. _She's going to try again, and maybe this time, her offspring will turn out “normal”._  
   He rolled over and punched his pillow. He couldn't help it if he never found anyone attractive… until now, that is. The elves were too frail; the humans too impatient; the catkin had no backbone, metaphorically speaking. As for his own kind, the _kuren_ , most were lacking the spirit, the fire that his orc blood desired.  
   Though he was a penultimate Oracle, he fought the orcish half of his blood daily, to attain the patience required. He feared that if he ever found a mate that did fire his blood, he would lose that hard-won serenity. He was one of the rare Oracles that could Commune with Kaia directly; and in these end times, he dare not jeopardize the lives of many for the pleasure of one.  
   But it was the vague notion of that pleasure that tormented his sleep. The product of pleasure, namely children, added to his misery.  
   In the morning, he dragged a brush through his hair. The braid had come undone in the night, finishing what Lili started the day before. He braided the thick, arrow-straight auburn mass into one long tail down his back.  
   Unable to delay any longer, he rose and went to greet his Lady wife. He knocked, unsure of the welcome he would receive.  
   The dark eunuch promptly opened the door. He'd learned the sound of Gromm’s heavy fist by now, no matter how gently he rapped the ancient door.  
   Ealishe sat at her little table, breaking her fast. Though he'd eaten nothing, he waited to be invited to sit. He would take none of the liberties he was allowed by matrimony. A friend or roommate would wait, he thought.  
   She let him stand there for two full minutes before acknowledging his presence. He expected nothing less from his mercurial wife. If she felt slighted, he would allow her to express it however she saw fit.  
   “Do sit. I doubt you've eaten.”  
   It was not permission to touch the food, so he sat and waited, hands on knees.  
   “For Kaia’s sake, don't just sit there, _eat_ something!” she barked.  
   He inclined his head politely and filled his plate. He thought irrelevantly that he needed a larger dish. He felt like a glutton when he refilled it, but the dainty lady's portion would not sustain someone his size.  
   “You need a bigger plate,” she said irritably.  
   He laughed. At her inquiring brow quirk, he said “I was just thinking the very same thing.”  
   It startled a smile out of her.  
   He filled her glass with _jaja_ , a green vintage this time. She nodded her thanks, mouth full of an excellent cheese. It would be redundant to say ‘imported cheese’, since cows could not graze here.  
   “Have you thought about what you will say to the Council this morning?” he asked. The boiled eggs did not taste as good as they would have while they were hot, but he'd grown up on similar fare. He simply didn't know what he was missing.  
   “Not a clue. I'm hoping some of the Councilors have connections in their own cultures. Maybe we can evacuate the elves to elven lands, humans to nearby settlements, and the like.”  
   “And what of our people? Many of them cannot walk in the sunlight without pain.”  
   She threw her hands up, nearly upsetting her glass of _jaja_. “ _I_ don't know! I mean, we had to come from _somewhere_ , didn't we? Kaia did too. Maybe wherever she came from is where we came from. The books seem to hint that we did. One even went so far as to suggest that we migrated inside Kaia.”  
   This was news to Gromm. He'd never seen the handwritten book that Zezu gave her. No one had, aside from previous Elders. He knew that their people arrived before the Skyfolk, and that the Deep Folk were here before Kaia. Everyone who paid attention to their history lessons knew that. He'd never heard it whispered that they came to the Cavern together.  
   “What I do know is, I want to see the sleds with legs. I need to know what they are.”  
   He reminded her that she already knew what they were.  
   “Sure, I know they're the same species as the houses, and Kaia, but if I can see a smaller version of Kaia, I might get some ideas about how to prolong Her life until we get everyone out safely.”  
   He was momentarily stunned. She made perfect sense. Sometimes he forgot that she was an adult, so when she said something particularly wise, it surprised him.  
   “Why don't we bring all of the Council to see them?” he suggested.  
   She shook her head. “The only thing that's kept us safe is Her shell. I'd rather not spread our secrets so widely.”  
   He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “What about Faolan, since she is one of us, and Karakuul? He is a military man, and his people have been fighting the Darkness since before our kind landed.”  
   She reminded him that Fura said the same of her family.  
   “Right. So we bring those three with us to see the hatchlings.”  
   Her eyes softened. “I never thought of the sleds as hatchlings before. If the houses are adults, I guess it makes sense.”  
   “ _Were_ adults,” he corrected her. “If they were alive, their Crystals wouldn't shatter.”  
   She'd forgotten the few times a Crystal had broken a piece of furniture in her mother's house, when it fell. She shuddered at the reminder that Kaia would fail far more spectacularly.  
   “Right, so we send for those three to meet us here, before we convene the Council.”  
   Zezu took that as a command, and left. They could only presume that he would write notes to each, for how else would he be understood?  
   “He is efficient, I'll say that. They should arrive by the time we finish our food.”  
   “Certainly I will, but you eat twice as much, dear husband.”  
   As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. She applied herself vigorously to her breakfast, unable to look him in the eye.  
   Gromm felt a curious flutter in his heart when she called him her dear. He doubted she meant it the way it sounded. Marriage seemed to be a game to her. She was young and inexperienced. She'd been allowed to linger in childhood long past the time when she should have given it up.  
   He ate in silence, feeling much older than his twenty years.  
   “So…” she began, searching for the right words. “I ah… I'm fine with you going to that place, if you want…”  
   Gromm deliberately misunderstood her. “I go where you go, of course. I have not had the pleasure of seeing the hatchlings.”  
   She flushed when he said “pleasure”.  
   “No, I ah… I meant the place the monk got Lili from. I saw how you were with her, and if you want one of your own, that's… fine…”  
   He set his fork down and stared at the top of her head. She could feel his gaze, but couldn't make herself meet it.  
   He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You wish to have children, then?”  
   Her eyes shot up of their own accord, wide with fear. “Me? No, no!” She looked down at her plate. “But I can see that you do.” She shrugged. “I guess that's why the place exists, yeah? So... go ahead, if you want to.”  
   Part of her wanted him to say that he didn't want another woman that way. Another part wanted him to go, and take the pressure off her. She couldn't decide which part was screaming louder.  
   “And if I don't want to?” he asked, in a tone of voice she'd never heard. It was low, dangerous.  
   She shrugged again. “I don't want kids yet. I told you that.”  
   He reached across the ridiculously small table and cupped her pointy chin in one massive paw. He lifted it until she met his eyes, which were glowing a faint topaz. She was surprised to see the light in his eyes. It took a lot to move her Kindred.  
   “I can wait,” he rumbled. She felt the words in her bones.  
   The hint of eroticism spooked her. She shot up from the table and began pacing.  
   “Ye might wait forever, if you wait for me to make up my mind. You should go. Who knows? Maybe if you bring one home, I'll want one of my own. Right now, I'm still learning how to be an adult, so… just go, okay?”  
   She halted in the middle of the room, nares flared, eyes wide and burning madly. Her knees were locked, tail lashing to and fro.  
   That was how the three Councilors found them.


	35. The Derpiary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally get to see what a tantalus looks like, when it's alive.

“My Lady Elder, the Councilors you requested are present.” Snow astutely ignored the locked, baleful eyes of the Elder and her Consort. He blocked the view of the Councilors, giving them time to calm down.  
   Gromm stalked past him, after snapping at Zezu to guard her with his life. The older members of the Council stared after him, perplexed. They had yet to see him riled. He'd remained calm, even when they all but forced him to wed a virtual stranger.  
   By the time the Elder emerged, she appeared calm and unruffled. “It was good of you to come on such short notice. We thought it best to show you something before we discuss the future.” Her cool voice caught on the last word, but they assumed it was due to the uncertainty of said future.  
   “Why only us?” Fura asked.  
   “Because you three possess the necessary qualities to appreciate what you are about to see, and keep it secret. Our survival depends on both.”  
   The Deep Elf, dwarf, and  _kuren_  looked at each other uneasily. They followed her outside, where she paused uncertainly. She looked for a sled, and found one waiting nearby. One of her companions may have ridden it there.  
   She beckoned to it, and everyone climbed aboard.  
   “To your stables, if you please.”   
   It hesitated.  
   “I wouldn't ask if it weren't a matter of lives, little one. Please, take us to your stable.”  
   It shivered, but it obeyed her request. Obviously, she knew what it was, so there was less risk of its cover being blown.  _I hope I'm doing the right thing_ , it thought.  
   They didn't have far to go. The building was across a garden from the Council Chambers. Zezu helped her down, which she wouldn't have accepted if she weren't attired in Court dress again.  
   She strode confidently up to the wide double door and knocked imperiously. There was a long wait, wherein she knocked a few more times. Eventually, the door opened a fraction.  
   “Who is it?” a suspicious voice asked.  
   “The new Elder, come to inspect the hatch--”  
   She was yanked inside before she could finish the word. She didn't have time to tell the woman about the others, but her personal eunuch was strong enough to open the door himself. He closed it tightly after the dwarf.  
   The half Crystal-Born, half wood elf planted two tiny fists on her hips and glared at them. “How dare you--”  
   “The Great Collapse is nigh, Nissa.”  
   Everyone turned to stare at the dark, heretofore  _silent_  eunuch in shock. His voice had a strange echo beneath the baritone timbre.  
   Nissa snatched the Elder’s hand and tugged her toward what she would later learn was the hatchery. Ealishe was still staring at the implacable teak face of her eunuch.  
   Until Nissa all but threw her at a fence.  
   “Will these have time to hatch?” she asked, eyes glowing an anxious green.  
   Ealishe looked at the neat clusters of eggs, all as big as a dwarf. They varied in color: pastel greens, blues, pinks, and the like.  
   “I… don't know. All I know is, it'll happen before my three hundredth birthday.”  
   “And how old are ye now?” she asked tersely.  
   “Eighteen. I'm only eighteen,” she finished on a whisper. Zezu lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. She put a hand on top of it and squeezed briefly.  
   “Wal, then, we should have time. I'll tell the girls to stop laying for a while, just to be safe. Come, come, you'll want to see the girls, yeh?”  
   Without waiting for an answer, Nissa pulled her in a new direction. She looked back to make sure that her companions were following, and two of the three looked stunned. Only Faolan was unfazed. For all she knew, the  _kuren_  might have been here before.  
   “Here ye go, tha’s the brood crew. We send the young’uns out as sleds, but these gels stay behind an’ lay the next generation. They kin only serve as sleds til they're a certain size, ye know. After that, they shed their fur an’ take to th’ sea.”  
   The three who'd never seen what was under a sled stared, open-mouthed. Zezu walked right in and began checking feet, crystals, eyes, and whatever else he deemed necessary. Faolan leaned on the fence, gazing fondly at the giants.  
   They looked like turtles, to a certain extent. Their faces were different, with large eyes that were all pupil. Their beaks were narrower and longer than a turtle, as well. They also had little fangs beneath their cheekbones. Long, floppy ears dangled along the jawline, with two claws at the forked tips.  
   They had six legs: four that resembled arms, and two that looked like hind legs. All six ended in two-toed hooves, the outer toes being longest on the hind legs. They were covered in pastel, striped fur. Tough elbow pads adorned the front four legs.  
   Crystals were scattered all over their shells. They realized those shells were naturally swirled with two, or rarely, three colors. Most of them had assumed them to be painted before habitation. Twin crystalline antlers jutted to either side of their head cones.  
   Last, and perhaps most strangely, a blonde tail wagged happily from under each and every shell. No matter the fur or shell coloring, all of the tails were a golden blonde.  
   When she could speak coherently, Ealishe asked what they were called.  
   “Well, from the biggest to the smallest, ye’ve got Kaia, the Great Tantalus. Then you have the adults, called tantos. The sleds, which are adolescents, are tantiros. And those little cuties behind you are derpies. The scientific name of the species, if yer interested, is Derpireus Tantalus.  
   “And this,” she said, gesturing broadly, “is the derpiary.”  
   Ealishe heard what she said, but she was enthralled with the relatively tiny derpies. She held out a hand, hoping to entice one closer.  
   “If you want to touch, you kin jes ask. They're sentient.” Ealishe didn't realize Nissa was behind her until she spoke.  
   “Oh. Um… hi,” she squeaked nervously. “Can I pet you? You look ever so soft.”  
   Some pointedly turned their backs at the word “pet”, while others chirped and flocked to the fence.  
   “You can go inside if ye like.”  
   The look she gave Nissa, all bright and sparkly, answered for her. Zezu was quick to snatch an apron off a hook and tie it over her Court garb. She fussed impatiently until he swatted her back playfully. She clambered over the fence and dropped to her knees among the happy derpies. The few who chose to interact with her swarmed around, chirping over one another in a loud cacophony. She stroked floppy ears and fuzzy legs, awash in childlike glee.  
   Faolan leaned over the fence and patted a shell here and there.    
   Karakuul went through the gate that the Elder had been too anxious to see, and examined their shells minutely. He did excuse himself if one took offense, which reassured Nissa that he would not harm them.   
   Fura Steelhammer, the stout and stern dwarf, put on an apron and joined the happy melee. She used the gate, and she didn't kneel, but they were her size. She didn't have to kneel to look them in the eye.  
   Zezu let them examine the derpies while he inquired about their general health. Nissa wasn't surprised to hear him speak, with his deep, strangely accented voice. Ealishe felt left out, but she forcibly reminded herself that no one else, not even the other eunuchs, seemed to know that he could speak.  
   Karakuul left the derpies to ask if the tantos would let him examine their underbellies.  
   “We must understand where any potential weaknesses may be, great ladies. You may save lives by allowing me the rare pleasure.” He executed an elaborate elven genuflection, flattering the tantos shamelessly.  
   A powder blue and mint green tanto dropped to her haunches and lifted her first pair of forelegs. Karakuul had the sense to thank her before taking a look.  
   “My lady Fura, may I get your opinion on something?” he called across the aisle.  
   Fura disentangled herself from the mass of rowdy toddlers and joined him beneath a tanto that Nissa said was named Bai.  
   “I think we should shore up these areas, if we can find them on Kaia. What do you think?”  
   The underbelly of a tanto resembled an armadillo. Horizontal lines crossed it, which he thought might be the first places to crack.  
   “How will we reach her belly? She's got to be buried in the sediment of the Cavern, by now.”  
   “Hmm, good point. Would it do any good to reinforce them internally?” He looked to both Fura and Bai for their thoughts.  
   Fura shrugged. Bai shook her head.  
   “Bai said there's a whole mess of internal organs between the shell and epidermis. Ye may’s well reinforce the whole top layer o’ skin and hope it keeps ever’thin out.”  
   “Wait, you can understand those chirps?” Karakuul asked.  
   “Don't hafta. I'm an Oracle. ‘Cept I don't try ta Speak to Her. Ain't strong enough fer that.”  
   Both dwarf and Deep Elf stared at her. Neither had made the connection between Oracles and Kaia.  
   “So they aren't Communicating with the Crystals, they're talking to Kaia itself,” Fura said slowly.  
   “Herself. Kaia is female, though She's so ancient She's forgotten.”  
   The three who had yet to truly understand the nature of Kaia, in relation to everything else they'd seen, felt a deep kinship with their timeworn protector.


	36. Gromm Goes Courting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She practically ordered him to go...

Gromm was riding his own tantiro, to the Brood Palace. He wasn't entirely convinced that he was doing the right thing, but the monk said it took days to be screened. Maybe she would change her mind before he was approved.  
    _And maybe the sun will shine down here,_ he thought morosely. If they were in love, married for real, he wouldn't even consider visiting a glorified brothel.   
   But they weren't, and he was. At the very least, it would get his mother off his back. To be honest, he was glad she didn't know about the establishment, or she'd have sent him here to “make a man out of him” years ago. He wouldn't have had a way to support a child, in the dormitory. Now, as it had been pointed out, there was plenty of space for them in his current residence.  
   He was greeted by a man almost as big as him. Judging by the aggressive stance, he didn't think he was a eunuch. Castration removed that trait rather effectively.  
   “Greetings. I am told that this is a house of discretion.” He couldn't bring himself to state the exact nature of their business; particularly in the sparsely populated public.  
   The man grunted and stepped aside.  
   The room that affronted his eyes was opulent to the point of gaudiness. His Lady Elder’s apartments were tastefully decorated in muted pastels, to complement the bright jewel tones of her wardrobe.  
   He focused on the large woman who came marching toward him. Her garb was more restful to behold.  
   He held out one huge paw, which she shook with mannish vigor. Little did he know, if he'd been human or elf, she would have presented a very different persona.  
   “If I was told correctly, this is a place where one might… procure offspring,” he said, trying and failing, not to blush.  
   She eyed him up and down, rather more thoroughly than he would have preferred. She walked a circuit around him, humming to herself. When she faced him again, she bluntly told him that she wasn't sure she could accommodate him.  
   “Beg pardon?” he asked.  
   For some reason, she laughed. “You don't sound like any orc I've ever met!” she roared.  
   His spine stiffened. “I am only half orc,  _surrah._  I was raised by both parents until I was fourteen. I am an Oracle Vanguard, and Kindred to--well, my Initiate’s name matters naught. I assure you, I am not a typical orc.” Despite his impassioned words, not a trace of sulfur tinted his gaze.  
   Magda was impressed. “You say you're an Oracle, but how do I know for sure?”  
   Gromm did not hesitate. “Although the monk said that you check references, you may ask any question you think I might lie about. It is well-known that we cannot lie.”  
   She perked up when he mentioned Meron. “The monk, eh? Well, there's your first positive reference. Alright, I want you to lie about your eye color. Simple enough, eh?”  
   He was relieved that she did not ask for the name of his Initiate. It was assurance of their anonymity.  
   He tried to say “green”, but he gagged. He tried to say blue, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.  
   “Interesting. I did wonder what would happen if one of you tried lying to me. Thank you. That was useful information.  
   “Okay, down to business. Come to my office.”  
   She led him down one of the typically irregular halls to a door on the outside left. She sat behind a large, oval-bottomed desk and motioned toward a blob that he assumed must be a chair.  
   “So, you saw the monk’s daughter, and now you want one. That about sum it up?”  
   He smiled fondly and tugged his eyebrow. Magda was aware of the child's disconcerting habit, though she'd repeatedly told her  _dami_  to curb it.  
   “More or less. My wife wasn't so keen. She was quite adamant that if I wanted a child, I would have to come here. She all but shoved me out the door this morning.”  
   Magda roared with laughter. “You'd be surprised how often I hear that. Let me guess, she's worried about her figure?”  
   He scratched his head. “I'm not sure. I think she's just afraid of growing up. Also…” he looked uncomfortable admitting the next part. “I think she is… untouched. In the interest of full disclosure, you may as well know that I ah… I've never…”  
   She flapped a meaty hand at him. “We get that too, don't worry. I think I know just the gal, presuming you pass all the tests.”  
   Gromm’s brow briefly furrowed. “Meron said there was to be a line of ladies. Was he incorrect?”  
   She toyed with a pen on her desk. “High Monk Meron,”  _I'll never get tired of lauding that over people,_ she thought avariciously. “Had no… special needs. The lass I'm thinking of is experienced enough to handle your, shall we say, physique. The monk would not squash one of my human girls by accident.”  
   He laughed nervously. “I see your point. I shall trust your judgment on this, my good woman.”  
   Magda just  _loved_  when they were all proper. It made her feel like a legitimate business owner, instead of a peddler of flesh.  
   “First things first. I'll need your full name, so we can look into your background. We are very discreet in our inquiries. Then, if you don't mind, we'd like your wife's name. A child will be the responsibility of both parents, you understand.”  
   He fidgeted. “I'd rather not disclose my wife's name, if at all possible.”  
   Magda dropped the pen. “And just why is that?” she asked slowly.  
   “I'm sure you get high-ranking people in here all the time,” he said, flattering her without even realizing it. “She is one of those people who shouldn't be named unless absolutely necessary.”  
   Her curiosity piqued. “Well, if you could at least tell me that rank, it might not be necessary to list her name.”  
   He squirmed in the boneless chair. “There is only one of her,  _surrah._  By telling you her rank, I am effectively telling you her name.”  
   Magda flopped back against the wall.  _Is he telling me that he's married to the new Elder?!_  
   “Well, let's start with your name, and we'll move on to the physical examination,” she said, covering her rapid thoughts.  
   She handed the slip of paper to a eunuch outside the door, who read the name and, in full view of Gromm, swallowed it. Then he left.  
   “You hold privacy at a high premium, indeed. I gather he has an excellent memory?” He was once again impressed with the efficiency of the process.  
   “He does, indeed. Sadly, he forgets everything by morning.” Whether she meant it literally or figuratively, he appreciated it.  
   “Come, the physician is this way.”  
   “You have one on staff?” he asked, hands wiping sweat on his trousers.  
   “Given the nature of our work, we thought it prudent.”  
   He couldn't argue with her logic. Not only must the physician examine prospective parents, but they must also deliver the babies.  
   The doctor was at the back of the facility. He was told that the noise of birthing would disturb the process of creating life. Again, he could not argue with her logic.  
   The doctor was soft-spoken, which would be a boon in his profession. He took down a medical history, which was quite brief given his hardiness. One broken arm as a child was all he had to report, aside from Backlash. He did not elaborate on the cause.  
   Then came the dreaded examination. He was visually inspected, top to bottom. He was poked, prodded, and pinched. The doctor said he was checking hydration, iron levels (by inspecting his eyes and gums), and other things he didn't really understand.  
   He was quite embarrassed when the doctor moved to test his reproductive equipment. He knew the risk of disease, but he didn't have to enjoy the testing. One part involved a probe somewhere he would try very hard to forget, and an electric current. He wasn't sure what electric meant, but it startled a “sample” out of him.  
   He blushed, staring intently at the cabinetry above a magelight. He didn't know what just happened to him, but he probably wasn't supposed to enjoy it.  
   The doctor assured him that it was normal, but it didn't feel normal. It felt… dirty.  
   Squinting through a small tube with lenses on each end, the physician happily informed him that everything looked good. “Good color, good speed. Yes, I think you'll do nicely.”  
   He washed his hands in a basin before shaking the bemused half-orc’s hand, which he appreciated.  
   “Good luck, sonny. Don't think you'll need it, though.”  
   Gromm staggered to the door, where the proprietress waited. He'd hoped to totter home and take a bath, but she had other plans.  
   “Good news, my boy! We've expedited your application.”  
   His jaw gaped soundlessly, until he managed to gasp (while being led down another corridor) “You… what? I, ah… that's… great…”  
   Magda all but shoved him into a steamy room, where he was meticulously scrubbed by an old woman.   
   “We don't normally heat the water, y’know. You must be an important fella,” she cackled.  
   Then he was stuffed into a garment that went from neck to knee, and tied on one side.  
   “Two rules, bucko: no rough stuff, and no eye contact, got it?”  
   He nodded bemusedly down at the wiry old woman. Then he was towed down another labyrinthine hall to a door like all the others. Unlike normal doors, which left an inch gap at the bottom (to avoid scraping Kaia’s hull), these had padding wedged in that gap. The old woman didn't knock, she just opened the door and shoved him in.   
   A lovely lady roused from her bed, sleep-tousled and probably grumpy. She blinked at him, momentarily disoriented.  
   “Uh… hi…” he said awkwardly.


	37. Innocence Lost, Hope Found

Sheith blinked at the mountain in his room. Was this supposed to be a client? They usually told him ahead of time, so he could bathe and dress. If he was a client, he should look away. Just in case, he studiously examined the bedding.  
   Gromm belatedly remembered the “no eye contact” rule, and looked at the floor.  
   “I, ah… I don't know if I'm supposed to know your name, or not. Am I supposed to give you mine..?”  
   Sheith donned his persona as easily as dressing in the flimsy garments they wore exclusively. He slid out of the bed, showing a strategic amount of skin, and padded up to the giant.  
   “You're new to this, aren't you?” He ran his talons up one muscular forearm teasingly, though he felt nothing. It was all an act, and he hated how well he performed.  
   The big man coughed uncomfortably. “Y...yes. I was told about this place, and my wife doesn't want kids yet… They expedited my application, whatever that means, and… I wasn't expecting to do this today.” He blurted the last sentence.  
   Sheith wanted to feel pity for the brute, but if people like him didn't come here, he wouldn't have to do the things he did.  
   Gromm didn't know that the “lady” was acting. The talons that explored his chest and parted the front of his garment woke something within him that he refused to acknowledge with his wife.  
   Sheith did not fear his size. In truth, the danger excited him. Maybe this time, he wouldn't survive. Maybe now, he would be set free the only way possible.  
   Gromm was very aware of his strength. The sapphire nymph led him to the soft mattress, brushing strategic parts of his body with her tail, and he had to fight his mother's bloodline every step they took.  
   The skilled seductress introduced the awkward virgin to the world of pleasure. Much to his dismay, no matter how much he teased the behemoth, he remained gentle, diffident. He used every trick in his arsenal, brought the beast to bay several times, but he refused to lay a rough hand on him.  
   His stamina was impressive, though. If he didn't conceive after this morning's athletics, he never would. Since he was still alive, he hoped he did. Gestation gave him a break from acting for a few months.  _And this time, I can actually enjoy the time off,_ he thought acidly. He didn't mind making babies, but he found having one underfoot aggravating.  
   He idly ran his talons up and down the hairless chest. He wasn't trying to incite another round of sex, but the massive chest shuddered. One paw dropped heavily onto his hand to stop the swirling motion.  
   “Are ye trying to kill me, lass? Please, leave me be.”  
   Sheith stiffened slightly.  _So he's one of the ones who can't tell, is he? I thought he'd be different. He's half_  kuren.  _How can he not tell?_  He sighed across the broad chest, which made the big man shiver. Right, he was a virgin. Maybe his parents never told him. _Poor sap. Wonder how he'd feel if he knew?_  
   He'd learned the hard way not to tell the naive clients his proper gender. Ordo was particularly vicious with his education  _that_  time.  
   Gromm lay there, confused yet sated. He was pleasantly tired from the exertion, but the fact that she'd managed to get a rise out of him at all puzzled him. She didn't look like a woman, once her clothes came off. He'd never seen a masculine variant naked, nor a feminine variant. He didn't know what he was supposed to see, or not see.  
   She had round… somethings on her chest, but he hesitated to call them breasts. Then there were the longer, wider chin horns. She also had more of a muzzle, which was typical of males, not females. There were two holes down below, which he sort of expected. Did males and females have a different number of entrances, or exits, or whatever..? He couldn't ask his mother, and despite what they'd just done, multiple times, he didn't feel comfortable asking his companion.  
   He carefully disengaged from her embrace and sat up. He didn't know what he was supposed to do or say, to gracefully exit.  
   “If you're done for the day, you can leave.”  
   He half turned to look at her. She didn't have time to lower her big, blue eyes. “Shouldn't I… I dunno, thank you, or something..?”  
   She laughed at the bedspread, eyes properly averted. “You don't have to thank me, it's my job.”  
   “All the same…” At a loss for words, he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. He got up and dressed in the ridiculous garment and paused at the door.  
   “I don't know the way out.”  
   Slightly bemused by his show of tenderness, Sheith told him that there would be someone waiting outside.  
   Gromm was unaccountably reluctant to leave. Something about the girl reminded him of someone, but he couldn't think who. In the end, he recalled the Council meeting. He opened the door quietly, and sure enough, a silent man stood waiting for him.  
   He blushed clear up to his horns, but the man spun on his heel and led the way out. He looked back through the door, so identical to the rest, yet so meaningful to him. If all went well, the stranger in that room would bear his child.  
   In that tiny cubicle, Sheith ran a finger over his forehead, confused all over again. Were there decent men out there? If so, they were rarer than diamonds. In his many years in this place, that giant, whose name he would never know, was the first to treat him like a person. The first that he thought might remember his face. He was the only one to treat him like someone with feelings. That last glance, so bittersweet, undid him.  
   For the first time in years, he curled up around a pillow and wept. He hoped that he carried the child of such a man, if he was half the man he seemed. He had Ordo’s strength, but he refused to use it. He respected that more than anything.   
   He felt no romantic attachment, only a desire to create another decent person in a world he perceived as having so few. If there were more like him, this place wouldn't seem so dreary.  
   The strange thing is, he still considered himself a straight male. He did not count what he did for a living, for he was given no choice. His preference was still for women, which was just as well. _Try explaining a boner to one of the clueless ones._ He sniffled a little chuckle, though the tears still flowed over his winged cheekbones.  
   The dreaded knock on his open door signaled the end of his alone time. He dragged himself to his feet, not bothering to wipe his cheeks. Nobody here cared how much you cried. He also didn't bother putting on the flimsy kimono. The doctor was just going to remove it anyway.  
   “And how are we feeling?” asked the irritatingly calm physician.  
   “Fine.”  
   The doctor frowned at him. He needed specifics, and Sheith knew it. He sighed and relayed every passing sensation automatically.  
   “I don't feel hot or cold, I doubt there are bruises, and” he briefly groped one mammary globe, “nominal tenderness.”  
   He knew that tenderness didn't always equate to fertilization. Sometimes it just meant that the client was overenthusiastic. The doctor checked for bruising, given the client's racial makeup, and was pleasantly surprised to find none.  
   “This will be my first patient with half-orc progeny, so I don't think we'll do a pelvic until tomorrow. Let those little guys do their job in peace, hmm? Take this in the meantime.”  
   Sheith dutifully downed the bitter concoction they gave him with especially favorable clients. It supposedly increased the chances of fertilization. By now, it was just another part of the post-coital routine. So was the pelvic exam, which he was just as happy to postpone until the next day.  
   He was an old hand at this, so the doctor didn't double check his self-diagnoses. He'd never enjoyed the middle-aged elf’s groping, so it was a relief to skip that, too.  
   “Alright, back to bed with you. You know the routine.”  
   “Legs propped above heart level, minimal movement,” he recited.  
   The doc slapped him on the back. “Attaboy.”   
   The reminder that nobody cared that he was male set his teeth on edge, but he wouldn't cause a scene. He was bound and determined to bring a decent, good person into the world, and not even the callous treatment he received would prevent it.


	38. Divide and Conquer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gromm helps Meron with the Council.

Gromm decided against going to the Council meeting. His wife knew where he'd been, at her behest or not. His presence would only be a distraction. Instead, he went to the bathhouse.  
   The wizened elf showed him in, and left him alone with his thoughts. Now that he was out of the temptress’ arms, he was beset by shame. He'd given in to his baser instincts. Despite his wife all but shoving him into her arms, he felt guilty. He desired his little she-orc, but he'd vented that lust on another.  
   Granted, they did look much alike. Their eyes were different colors, perhaps due to the elven blood evidenced by her pointed ears. Aside from the ears and feet, they could have been sisters. Similar winged cheekbones, similar dark freckles, and facial proportions that closely matched. Their skin and hair were different colors, but that wasn't uncommon in Crystal-Born families.  
   He'd finally figured out who the little temptress reminded him of. Their figures were different, and his wife was half a head taller, but the face was what was nagging him.  _Does she have a sister?_ he wondered.  _Does she not speak of her because of what she does? Did she know I might wind up with her sister_ _when_ _she sent me?_ He resolved to ask her tonight, after supper.

   His wife was, at that moment, trying to coordinate messengers to the different races.  
   “They need to know that some families may not be comprised of the same races. Make absolutely sure they're willing to give them sanctuary,” she emphasized. “There are a lot of us in the Cavern, and I don't want anyone persecuted because of who they married.”  
   This was an uncomfortable reminder that the assembled Councilors had placed her squarely in that category. It was some time before anyone could look her in the eye.  
   “What about our people? Where do we go?” This was from both Nerok and Faolan.  
   Mirabella wanted to know where she was supposed to go, since she'd married a dwarf.  
   “We will wait to hear from both sides before assigning people to sanctuaries. Perhaps the humans will be okay with some pairings, but not others. Likewise for the dwarves.  
   “Nerok, your kind are welcome wherever the  _kuren_  end up, if nothing else is found.”  
   Here, Zezu cleared his throat. Ealishe turned to acknowledge him, though she remained hunched over the map that took up the entire table. Pins were stuck in likely outposts and cities. There were none in the color assigned to her people.  
   “If you like, I can send an envoy to our homeland,” he said, in his thickly accented, echoing baritone.  
   The Councilors who hadn't been in the derpiary stared at him open-mouthed. No one had heard him speak in centuries, it was rumored. Those few who knew of him thought him mute.  
   Ealishe wiggled a hand at him. “If you can, please do. Where is it on the map, so we can put a pin in it?”  
   He clammed up. It dawned on her that secrecy was key to their survival.   
   “Never mind, we'll just draw a circle on the map.”  
   This didn't go down well, so they opted to place a blank piece of paper in one corner. The owner of the map didn't fancy having crude circles ruin his priceless heirloom. The pins he was fine with, which confused Ealishe, but she wasn't going to argue.  
   “We need lists of families, and their compositions. If we have hard numbers to give the messengers, there may be less back and forth.”  
   She conceded the point to Karakuul. The Councilors set up, via pages waiting in the hall, a registrar. This building was easily large enough to handle dozens of people per day.  
   “How are we going to tell everyone that they need to register, in a manner that won't incite riots? Some of our residents are fleeing persecution, and may not wish to make their presence known.”  
   Nerok made a good point, as well.  
   Zezu had an answer for that, too. “Once you all agree on the wording, the Elder can tap into the Crystals and speak through them. Their humming can be heard throughout the Cavern. So can her voice. It is difficult, taxing, but possible.”  
   “How taxing? Will she be abed forr days, orr weeks?” Damyusa’s ears lay low against her head.  
   “Weeks, if the monk is not there to heal her afterward. If he is, perhaps days.”  
   This caused a stir. No one knew how much time they had before Kaia perished. Could they afford to lose days?  
   “Better do it now, then.” Fura was adamant.  
   The next few hours were spent hashing out her script, then memorizing it. Needless to say, they were mentally and emotionally drained by the time Monk Meron arrived.  
   It didn't help Ealishe’s nerves to see that he'd run into her husband at the bathhouse, and roped him into accompanying him.  
   “You've been there now, and you can't lie. They'll believe you,” he'd said.  
   Gromm did not relish telling his wife that he'd heeded her wishes, in front of the entire Council. In the end, it was Lili who convinced him. She didn't want to go back, and if the Council denied his application, she was convinced she'd be sent back.  
   “They  _never_  let me go outside!” she'd whimpered.  
   So, here he stood, trying not to look like a recalcitrant schoolboy. He would have gone to stand by his wife, but Lili had a firm grip on the back of his braid. He tried to convey his wishes with his eyes, but she was carefully Not Looking at him.  
   Meron made his altered petition, stating the nature of the place she'd come from. Lili “testified” loudly that she didn't want to go back.  
   And then it was Gromm’s turn.  
   “He's right, it is… cold, sterile. I cannot imagine living in that environment for four years, let alone however long those poor girls have been there.  
   “I cannot deny the efficiency of the place. For the client, there is relatively little fuss. They are… embarrassingly thorough in preventing disease, and assessing general health.  
   “For the  _damyii,_  there is… They sleep in the same room they… entertain. These cubicles are tiny, about the size of a dormitory room. I doubt they are allowed outside. No matter how excellent the medical care and food are likely to be, it is no way to live.”  
   A few of the Councilors, male and female, had made use of the Brood Palace. People who frequented the establishment tended to be spouses who could not conceive with their loved one, for whatever reason. None of them thought about the wellbeing of their surrogate. Everyone got a healthy child, and anonymity.  
   “What would you have us do?” asked Nimble Greenleaf.  
   “If my petition cannot be approved as a client of the Brood Palace because I arrived too late, I request that it be approved on the grounds of neglect.”  
   Gromm hastened to add that the women could hardly be expected to know how to be mothers, living as isolated as they did.  
   Ealishe looked like she'd eaten a prune. She knew she should be thankful that he could speak on behalf of the soiled doves in their gilded cages. It helped Meron and Lili. She knew, as well, that she'd all but thrown him into their arms. But he'd gone and slept with another woman, while he was married to her. It was all very confusing.  
   The Council asked Meron to wait outside while they discussed the matter. Gromm didn't know whether to stay or go, but his wife refused to look at him. Lili still had his braid, so he followed the monk out into the lobby. Lili got upset when they didn't go all the way outside. She misunderstood the old ones.  
   “Since it seems I am not wanted within, I could take her outside,” Gromm offered over her howling.  
   “I don't know, she has a nasty habit of running off,” Meron hedged.  
   Gromm just huffed out a rueful chuckle. “So does my wife.”  
   The monk laughed, then felt bad for doing so. “And you can keep up with her?”  
   “Aye, and her legs are longer than yours,” he said, wiggling one of Lili’s chubby calves. “And I doubt you want to go too far from your daddy, right? They might decide you don't want to live with him.”  
   Meron knew he'd hit on the right tack. Lili abruptly lunged for the hefty half-orc, who easily caught her. He turned to go outside. Meron put a hand on his bicep, since he couldn't reach his shoulder.  
   “For what it's worth, I think you'll make a good father.”  
   Gromm thumped him on the back, and walked out the door with his little girl. He stood in the open doorway until he was called into the Council chamber. When he went inside, the hulking half-orc was galloping around the causeway with his daughter on his wide shoulders, squealing happily.


	39. Promises Regretted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ealishe was impulsive and rash, and now she's having doubts. About everything.

“The Council has decided to  _conditionally_  approve your application.” It was the human Councilor who spoke. Perhaps that was the norm: whatever species the petitioner was, the corresponding emissary spoke. He wouldn't know. He braced himself for the conditions.  
   “I gather you know little of our race,” the Crystal-Born emissary said. “One of the things that a typical applicant would be required to do is attend a nine month cultural immersion class.”  
   He groaned inwardly.  
   “However,” the human continued, “you possess qualities that we will require, for an indeterminate period of time. It may be less than nine months, or it may be more. At this time, we do not know.”  
   He didn't know how to feel about that. “Might I know what it is you require of me?” he asked.  
   “Your unique healing abilities,” the woman said across the table. “You are to become the Elder’s personal Healer.”  
   He supposed he should have seen it coming, but he hadn't. “I am afraid that I have not the financial wherewithal to afford lodgings for such an extended time. I am but a humble monk, with another mouth to feed.” The logistics of it made his head spin.  
   “We will, of course, cover the cost of your room at the boardinghouse. Beyond that, you must make your own way. We are certain you will be able to find odd jobs, particularly with your skills.” The Elder sounded cold, remote.  
   “Is there a daycare of some sort?” he asked without much hope.  
   She looked down her short nasal ridge at him. “We are quite certain that our husband will be more than accommodating.” There was definite ice in her voice.  
    _She really_ doesn't  _want kids_ , he thought with a shiver.  
   He bowed in as low a  _situ_  as he could manage without falling over, and left. He could have fared worse, but he didn't feel like he'd won anything, either.  
   Gromm was sprawled on the ground when he stepped into the relatively fresh air. He trotted to the fallen man, a worried frown tugging at his lips.  
   He needn’t have worried. His daughter was happily shoving wispy mushroom stalks into the long braid that coiled around his head.  
   She looked up when he neared, and was up in a flash, racing to him with a fistful of wisp shrooms. Gromm was on his feet remarkably fast, but he slowed when he saw where she was running.  
   “How did it go?”  
   Instead of answering, the monk swung his daughter into his arms and asked if she liked spending time with Gromm. Lili nodded, her nose brushing the tops of the wisp shrooms with every bob of her tiny head.  
   “Well, you might be seeing more of him for a while.”  
   “And why is that?” the half-orc asked.  
   Meron finally looked up. “Because the Council just appointed me your wife's personal Healer, and you my daughter's babysitter.”   
   Gromm stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Knowing what is to come, this does not surprise me.”  
   Meron switched Lili to his other arm. “But what is coming?”  
   The orc shook his great head. “It is not for me to tell. You shall learn soon enough, I suspect.”  
   “Tonight, actually.”  
   Both men spun to face the Elder.  
   “When the sands begin to wane, come to my quarters. I shall have need of your services then.”  
   Meron estimated that to be approximately six in the evening, though he had yet to master their subterranean timekeeping. He nodded, then bowed for good measure. Then he gratefully took his leave. Lili waved her wilting mushrooms goodbye.  
   The sight of the tiny arm flailing behind the narrow back caused Gromm’s heart to stutter. If all went well, that would be his future.  
   His wife strode homeward without seeing if he followed. Zezu was with her, so he could go elsewhere if he chose. She was obviously angry. A smart man would give her time to cool down.  
   Gromm was not, in this case, a smart man.  
   He was her shadow, behind and to one side, as was her personal eunuch. No one would doubt that  _this_  was the Elder!  
   She stalked to her room and slammed the door behind her. At least, she tried to. It bounced off thick orc hide and quivered until the dark eunuch closed it with more dignity than force.  
   She dropped into a chair and picked up a book at random. Unperturbed, he sat in the chair across from hers. He said nothing, simply waited for the explosion.  
   She sat with the book she obviously wasn't reading, tail twitching, for as long as she could tolerate silence. She hoped he would give up and leave her alone, but she knew how unlikely  _that_  was!  
   “So, how was your day, dear?” she asked with brittle sweetness.  
   He played along with her immature game. He was too content to be riled. “Productive, my love.”  
   The book thwapped onto the table. “You  _dare_  call me that?!” she shrieked.  
   “You dare to call me dear, when obviously, I am not dear to you. I am fine with our original agreement, are you not?”  
   She spluttered incoherently with rage. Finally, she managed to say that their original agreement did not include children.  
   He calmly reminded her that they agreed to act as roommates. “What does it matter if a child shares my portion of the living space?”  
   “Because you went to _that place_  to get a child!”  
   He looked her in the eye and, without a flicker of yellow in his eyes, said “I go where my wife bids me.”  
   Her eyes blazed a violent vermillion. “How  _dare_  you?”  
   He sat, immovable as a rock, and let her vent. She called him terrible names, which he'd expected. When her words ran out, she flew at him with fists flying. He was not surprised. She beat his chest, angry that he wasn't angry. Tears streamed down her face, unheeded.  
   When she'd spent her energy, if not her anger, she slumped against him, horns stubbornly digging into his collarbone. Her fists shoved weakly at his ribs, but he did not bend.  
   Instead, he drew her across his lap and spanked her.  
   She squawked in outrage while her eunuch struggled to hide chortles. She wouldn't have heard him over her own screeching.  
   After five good smacks, he sat her on his knee like the child she behaved as. He held her thrashing body against his until she exhausted herself again, being mindful of her wings.  
   “Are you finished?” he asked against her temple.  
   She tried to elbow his ribcage, but he gave her no room to maneuver. She kicked his shin, so he stood up. Her legs dangled a good foot above the floor.   
   “I hate you,” she growled into his beard.  
   “No, you don't. You're angry, and your feelings are hurt.”  
   She hip checked him in the groin. He doubled over, but her weight caused him to fall forward. He landed on top of her, and they slid across the mattress. She wound up twisted sideways under his considerable bulk, though he caught most of it with his elbows. His legs did not break the fall, not after her low blow.  
   Though he did not possess external genitalia, Zezu winced in sympathy. He should have left them alone, but her volatile outbursts were all too likely to rouse the beast within her husband. The eunuch opted to remain, for her safety.  
   Ealishe struggled to free herself, to no avail. Gromm lay atop her, gasping for air. It was the first time he'd been struck there. He didn't know how to make the pain go away.  
   A groan worked its way free, and she froze. His face was contorted, not with anger, as she'd assumed, but pain. His eyes glowed a dull sulfur. He curled in on himself and fell to the side.  
   She anxiously felt for bruises or broken bones, but his chest was sound. She didn't understand why his breath wheezed like an old man. She put two fingers against his throat, but there didn't seem to be anything broken there, either. She didn't know where she'd struck him with her narrow hip, so she pressed her auditory canal to his chest. His breathing was gusty. Was that good or bad?  
   A rough palm cupped the back of her head. She jumped, but he held her there, against his heart. He did not use force this time, but she behaved as though he had.  
   “Please, just… don't move,” he rumbled. He sounded pained, so she obeyed. Whatever she did, she was sorry. She'd never seen her Kindred laid low, and it frightened her.  
   After a time, she asked if he was okay now.  
   A strained laugh reverberated through her auditory canal, into her skull. “Yes and no.”  
   Her head lifted to look at him. His eyes still glowed, perhaps brighter than before. She didn't know what he meant. She put her fingers to his throat again, found his heart racing.  
   He covered her hand, a pained expression on his face. His eyes slid closed, and he swallowed loudly.  
   Without warning, he sat up. She blinked in confusion. He  _never_  moved fast!  
   More curious than concerned, she sat too. She touched his arm, but he flinched. She punched him instead.  
   “Why do you shy away from my touch, yet you go to  _that place_ , huh? I don't understand!”  
   He rubbed the spot she punched, but refused to answer. She swung at his face, but he caught her fist. She swung her other hand, and he caught that too.  
   “Don't!” he growled. She'd never heard such barely-leashed emotion from him, nor had she seen his eyes burn so brightly.  
   “Why not?” She raised a leg for a kick, but he lunged forward, toppling her backwards. He pinned both of her legs with his heavy shins, and both of her hands beside her shoulders.   
   Zezu stepped forward, but the orc’s next words stayed his feet.  
   “Because I am trying  _very_  hard to keep a promise I made to you!” he all but snarled in her face.  
   Her face wrinkled in confusion. “What promise?”  
   His head drooped between his shoulders. “I promised you that this would be a simple arrangement, no strings attached.” His gaze, slightly more sane, met hers. “No emotional involvement, remember?”  
   She still didn't understand. He could see it in her eyes. He sighed, sending warm air across her young bosom.  
   “If I get up, do you promise not to attack me again?”  
   Goosebumps stood up across her collarbone. Her eyelashes fluttered with confusion. She did not answer, but he knew he had to leave before he broke his vow.  
   For the second time in as many days, he left his wife wanting. She didn't know what it was she wanted, but she felt empty without it.  
   She lay there, legs dangling childishly over the edge of the bed, wondering what she was missing. She cupped her own breasts and lifted, trying to ease their aching. She could still feel his breath on her skin. Did he feel all liquid inside when their bodies touched? He must not, if he could walk out the door.  
   What did emotional involvement have to do with these yearnings? They felt purely physical, to her. Did he know something she didn't?  _Of course he does. He's not untouched, anymore. But he said… Does that mean he feels something for that other girl? Does he feel that way about me? Do I_ want  _him to?_  
   She sprawled on her stomach, legs bent and idly kicking the air, pondering very adult concepts.  
   Her husband was in his room, wondering how to handle unwanted arousal. He tried shoving it down, but that only made it worse. He let it out, since pushing didn't work. Nope, it still stood straight and proud. Well, now what?  
   He attempted to stuff it back into his trousers, but it kept popping out. That was how he inadvertently stumbled on self-stimulus.


	40. Communion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Elder learns what it's like to be an Oracle.

When he could think clearly again, Gromm remembered that he was supposed to be his wife's Kindred. She was attempting something this evening that would require a healer afterward. She'd never successfully Communed with a Crystal before.  
   He was across the hall in a single stride, knocking on her door. The dark eunuch opened the door instantly.  
   “My Lady, do you know how to do what you are attempting tonight? I am your Kindred, and it is my duty to guide you. Pray, what will you do?” His voice was even, but his eyes were amber.  
   She rolled onto her side, arm propped under her head. She didn't bother to sit up.  
   “He says I can use the Crystals’ hum to speak with the whole Cavern at once.” She waved a hand at her personal eunuch. “You know, I don't even know your name.”  
   He executed a foreign, elaborate bow that sort of resembled a situ. “Zezu, at your service, My Lady Elder.”  
   “Zezu? Yes, it suits you. Do you have a last name?”  
   He chuckled deep in his chest. The eerie echoing undertone gave it a surreal feel. “One must have parents to have a surname. It is just Zezu, mum.”  
   Neither the Elder nor her Kindred knew what to say to that.  
   At length, Gromm asked Zezu how she was supposed to Commune with every Crystal at once.  
   “Until she gets the hang of it, she will require a very strong guide to show her the way.”  
   “But you saw what happened when I tried talking to just  _one_  Crystal!” she protested. She sat up, fists clenched in her lap.  
   “That was only because She Spoke to you. If She remains passive, it will be safe.”  
   She knew her Kindred could not lie, but she was still wary.  
   “Here, let us try simply listening, before the monk arrives. Come, I will protect you.”  
   He held out a large paw, waiting as patiently as ever. Whatever plagued him before seemed to have passed. She placed her hand in his, and they walked out to the garden Crystal. Zezu shadowed them, for protection.  
   They knelt on either side of the Crystal. Ealishe was far more sober than she was the first time.  
   “Let me Speak with Her first, so She knows what we are about.”  
   She nodded, remembering Nissa’s words this morning: “I don't try ta Speak to Her. Ain't strong enough fer that.”  
   She wondered how many people could do what her husband did, in light of the things she'd learned. She watched his eyes slide shut, warm sunshine glowing behind his lids. A seed of respect planted itself in her heart. When he held out his hand again, she reluctantly touched her fingers to his.   
   Instantly, a whole new world exploded behind her crimson eyes. She could see everything, as if she were floating up against Kaia’s shell. She saw how the houses, seemingly placed at random, sort of had an order to them. She would later learn that they sat atop pressure points, ribs, and other noninvasive spots.  
   She noted the location of each Crystal that she would be connecting to, later this evening. She saw how sound might move through the dome of Kaia’s shell. It was impressive. It was beautiful.   
   It was intimidating.  
   He broke the connection, and she drifted back into her body. She sat for a while, absorbing all she'd seen. For once, she looked like a typical Oracle.   
   He let her kneel there, staring into space, for as long as she needed. He knew the feelings that pulled her in different directions. He remembered the awe and fear that such a view inspired. He still felt it, to this day.  
   Unlike him, her eyes still lit up their secluded nook. She had a distant, serene look that made her even more beautiful than before. She didn't seem to notice that he still held her hand. He enjoyed the rare moment while it lasted. Her hand was small, yet the palm was wide. The fingers were long and tapered, giving the quartet a triangular appearance in his broad, square palm. Her talons curved gracefully, just past her fingertips. They were neither too long, nor too short. The overall impression was of strength and elegance.  
   The contrast between her dainty, lithe body and his colossal, muscular physique was part of what fascinated him so. He feared what he could inadvertently do to her. The girl that looked so much like her was much sturdier. He had less to fear in bedding her. But his wife inflamed his desire more than the practiced courtesan.  
   When sense began to return to her eyes, and they regained their normal onyx hue, he released her hand and stood. He did not bid her rise, not yet. He would allow her to move in her own time. That was the way of an Oracle, and he was her Kindred. He must set the example for her to follow.  
   She rose in one fluid motion, which was so unlike her that part of him reacted instinctively. He casually clasped his hands in front of it, in the hope that no one would notice.  
   Ealishe glided back to her quarters, lost in thought. Her silent companions followed loyally. She sat at her little table, quite without seeming to realize where she was. She ate what was set before her, though her husband had to put food on her plate before she noticed it. He recalled the euphoria of his first full Communion, but little of what came after. He presumed someone must have fed him, as he did her, but could not say for certain.  
   When her plate was empty, she sat in a daze. They let her be. Both men were comfortable in silence.  
   After what felt like hours, she dreamily asked if it was always like that. She was looking in her husband's general direction, but he could not say whether she really saw him.  
   “At first, aye. After a while, you get used to it.”  
   She propped her chin on one diminutive fist. “I hope I never get used to it. I want to be this happy every time.”  
   Both men shook their heads fondly. Such a childish wish, and yet it didn't surprise either of them.  
   Gromm shifted uncomfortably. Her waifish expression was wreaking havoc in his breeches. The way she leaned forward, her breasts rested on the edge of the table.  
   He excused himself, making no sudden moves to shake her from her trance. He needed to take care of the burden between his legs, so he wasn't tempted to take advantage of her distraction.

   Monk Meron arrived just before the appointed time. He knocked on Gromm’s door, to drop Lili off.  
   The Oracle yanked him inside and shut the door.  
   “I need your help,” he blurted.  
   “Isn't that why I'm here?” Meron asked. He didn't understand why the half-orc looked so disheveled and anxious.  
   “Not that kind of help. It's… You're an experienced man of the world, am I correct?”  
   He nodded, not sure he liked where this was going.  
   “Well, I'm not. I don't know what to do with… When you see a pretty lady, and you want… How do you make it stop?” he whined, careful in his wording with the toddler in the room. When the monk merely raised his eyebrow questioningly, Gromm pointedly looked down, then up.  
   Meron couldn't help it. He laughed until his eyes watered.  
   When he could speak, he clapped the larger man on the back. “We've all been there, my friend. First of all, you've got to learn the art of hiding it. A book, a pillow, anything will do.”  
   “I used my hands, earlier.”  
   “Whoa, little ears!” Meron chuckled.  
   “Like this,” he said innocently, showing him the clasped hands.  
   “Yeah, I guess if you've got giant hands, that works,” he conceded. “Second, there is a way to make it go away.”  
   Gromm blushed. “I, ah… figured that out by accident.”  
   “Whoa, I didn't mean that! Although, while we're on the subject, find some lotion or something for that. Otherwise, you get raw.”  
   The half-orc, with his giant hands and tough skin, seemed confused but attentive.  
   “The trick is to think of things you find…” he glanced at Lili, who was listening far too avidly for his taste. “Unpleasant. The less pleasant, the better. That'll stop it every time--provided there's no… physical contact. If you find a way to manage under those circumstances, you let me know, okay?”  
   “Thank you. By the way, is there a limit to the number of times a man… tames the beast?”  
   Meron chortled. “Taming the beast, eh? I'll have to remember that one. As to your question, you'll know. If you've given it one too many lashings, nothing will… erm… depart.”  
   He handed his wide-eyed daughter to the blushing Oracle. “Oh, and sometimes, if you tame the beast before you encounter the ah… cause of its disturbance, it's less likely to rise to the challenge.”  
   He left the naive lad, feeling light-hearted and cheerful. He felt like laughing at the world, except no one would know why, and think him mad. He breezed across the hall and rapped smartly.  
   The dark eunuch, who he did not know could speak, allowed him to enter the Elder’s chambers. He bowed.  
   “My Lady Elder, I am at your disposal.”  
   “Where is your daughter?”  
   He was puzzled. “I left her with your husband, as requested.”  
   “Ah. Well, there has been a slight change. My husband is needed for the work, and you are needed afterwards. Please fetch him here, and we shall depart.”  
   He supposed he could hand Lili to Gromm after this mysterious work. He walked back across the hall and knocked on the door. Gromm opened it, Lili happily tugging at the neck of his sleeveless jerkin and chirping “more! More!”  
   Meron patted his daughter's back. “Whatever game you were playing, it will have to wait. Gromm is gonna help his wife do something, and then you can play some more.”  
   Lili pouted. “But I was  _flying!”_  
   He arched his brows at the Oracle.  
   “I did not throw her, if that is what you think. Here, see?”  
   The massive man lay on his back and held her above him, “flying” on his palms and shins.  
   He groaned. “Great, now she's going to want  _me_  to do that!”  
   Gromm stood up, dangling his daughter by her ankles. “It is not difficult. Your legs take most of the weight.”  
   Meron eyed his violet-cheeked child, seeing yet another game she would try to get him to play. She squealed when the giant swung her over his shoulder and strode into his wife's chamber.  
   “Are we ready, milady?”  
   Ealishe looked at her mountain of a husband, with a small, giggling bundle on his broad shoulder, and felt faint disgust. It was undignified! Her lack of concern for propriety heretofore escaped her momentarily. The child reminded her of his infidelity, which she still held against him. The fact that she all but ordered him to do it also escaped her notice. It had been more of a dare than a command.  
   She breezed past him, sailed out the door to the garden. Three men and a little girl followed in her wake.


	41. Announcements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Elder talks through Kaia, and it takes a toll.

Later that evening, Ealishe knelt again before the Crystal and waited. Gromm handed Lili to her father and knelt beside her. He made contact with Kaia, told Her what they wished to do. It was unorthodox, but She agreed to act as a conduit for the words of the Elder.  
   Lyesha, Captain of the Sovereign Guard, materialized next to Zezu.  _The Council must have sent her to make sure I don't mess up,_  she thought bitterly.  
   Ealishe took the hand her husband extended, and tuned into the Crystals all across the Cavern nervously. She wasn't sure she was ready for it, or if she was doing it correctly, but time was short. She had to hope that Kaia and Gromm guided her aright.  
   “Greetings, residents of Tantalus Caverns, known to some as Crystalsong Caverns. I am your new Elder, Ealishe Maniera. I am afraid that my reign will not be as peaceful as my predecessors'. Change is coming, and it will not be easy.  
   “My people are leaving for their homeland. The Cavern we called home will not be much of a home, sooner than we would like. We do not know when, but sometime within my lifetime, Kaia will... depart.” Her voice caught on the last word. All who knew of the Great Collapse teared up. Families in their homes clung to each other's hands in mute support.  
   “Those of you who are not my kin will be evacuated to local communities. I know, this is confusing, and you may feel excluded, but the journey is harsh. The very young and the very old would do better to make the easier transition Above. Caravans will be arriving throughout the next few months, to escort you to your destinations.  
   “Families of Crystal-Born, or  _kuren,_  as we are called, will be dealt with on a case by case basis. As I said, some races will not survive in our home territory. The most likely to thrive are the Deep Races, trolls, and any giant or elemental lineages.    
   “Unless you possess magic that allows you to tolerate extreme conditions, the rest of you would likely perish before we reach our home. I am sorry, but now is the time for hard decisions.  
   “I can assure you that any who follow us and survive will be safer than they would be anywhere else. If you would feel misunderstood living Above, that is something to consider.  
   “I wish things were different, but the hard truth is, Kaia is dying. She will not be able to protect us from the things in the Wild Zone for much longer. We should evacuate while we can.  
   “That said, we need to know who is going where. A formal registrar has been set up in the Council building to keep track of you all. We mustn't waste time or resources searching for people who have already left.  
   “If you are considering remaining in the Cavern, I strongly advise against it. As I said, the darkness is coming. Kaia is our only barrier against it. Yes, of course, Captain Lyesha, Kaia and the dedicated Guardians of the Sovereign Guard.  
   “If you would like to join the Sovereign Guard to help fight the increasing pressure from the darkness, inquire at the barracks. Any Guardian can direct you to it.  
   “Please be safe, and try to avoid excessive panic. We have a plan of evacuation, and refuge for all who require it. You have my sympathy, and my thanks.”  
   With that, she released her hold on Gromm, the Crystals, and consciousness.  
   Gromm was prepared for her fall. When she let go of Kaia, he easily tugged her by the hand that lay limp in his grasp. His capable arms wrapped around her torso before she hit the ground. The rapid disconnect from Kaia was momentarily disorienting, but he found his feet relatively soon after.  
   He carried her into her suite and lay her in the big bed. He cradled her face, which looked so young in repose. “You did well, little one.” He kissed her brow ridge, took Lili from her father, and went to his room to wait.

   Meron grounded and centered himself, Looked within his patient. It was more difficult to discern the different body parts without movement. She was just one big glow.  
   “Can you move her limbs, one at a time, when I say?” he asked the eunuch in a strangely toneless voice.  
   Zezu did as requested, though he glowed, as well. His glow was a soothing silver, however, so it did not affect his treatment of the Elder. In fact, the contrast of gold and silver aided the process.  
   As before, her head was a jumble of knotted  _chi._  He sort of knew his way around this time, so the proper lines of flow were easier to see. It required less time to treat her.   
   Zezu had food ready for him when he was finished, which he accepted with profuse thanks.  
   “I cannot say how long she will remain unconscious, but order has been restored. Call for me if anything changes.”  
   He left, optimistic about her chances, and physically refreshed.  
   Gromm was reading a book to his daughter when he returned. He didn't recognize the story in the battered old book, so he sat and listened. It was a tale of an underwater city, full of incredible creatures. It was cut off from the rest of the world, because it was so very far below the surface. The story followed a lonely little girl, who was the last child born in the city.  
   “‘Only the strongest can reach us,’ said the wise old tanto. ‘I know you've made friends with the fish, but they cannot come on land. Maybe another visitor will make it through, and you won't be so lonely.’”  
   Lili looked sad. “If I was strong enough,  _I'd_  play with her!”  
   Gromm ruffled her hair. “You are strong enough, little one. That story is an old one, from before Landing. It is a story of our people.”  
   Meron leapt to his feet and told Lili they had to go home. He didn't want her thinking about going with the Crystal-Born when they left. He had a career on the continent, and a church to report to.  
   Lili gave the book a final pat and crawled off the big man’s lap. She put her tiny hand in his and waved goodbye. Gromm’s heart constricted with every flex of her chubby fingers.  
   He looked in on his wife, found her sleeping peacefully. He thought of the life that could be growing while he stood there. It was a pity she didn't want children of her own. The thought of watching her swell with child--his child--made his belly go all weightless.  
   His paw traced her violet-speckled cheek. She nuzzled it in her sleep, a happy little murmur on her lips. A soft smile tugged at his muzzle. He wished she were like this when she was awake. If she were more affectionate, less prickly, their marriage would be much smoother.   
   Her face pressed into his palm, and she half curled toward him. Her breath puffed against his scales. One hand reached for his arm, which quickened his pulse. He gently disengaged and left. He would read a book until he was calm again. While he'd discovered an effective method of relieving the tension, he felt guilty about it. If the monk was correct, distraction would work as well.  
     
Sheith heard the announcement. He heard the commotion in the halls. He lay in bed with his feet up, mind spinning. Doors opened and closed, but they were all too well-trained to shout.  
   Eventually, the doctor came in and told him that he had to do the pelvic exam.  
   He struggled to sit up. “Why?”  
   “If you're pregnant, you're staying. If not, you're coming with us.”  
   Sheith dropped flat and let the man check him over. He didn't know where Magda was going, but he did  _not_  want to go with her. He didn't know who was staying behind, but it had to be better than life under her.  
   The exam was blessedly brief. He was in too much of a hurry to prolong the torture.  
   “Yep, you're staying.”  
   “How many of us are staying behind?” he asked.  
   “The Guardian who came said anyone carrying Crystal-Born offspring has to stay. He also said any purebloods had to stay. I don't know how many yet, and quite frankly, it's none of my business.”  
   He knew that there was only one Trueblood in the Brood Palace, so at least he wouldn't be completely alone. He guessed that the staff would go with Magda. She paid them, the  _damyii_  did not.  
   It wasn't until the doctor left that it hit him. He was carrying the orc’s child. A bright smile lit his time-worn features. He didn't know what they would do for food, but at least he would do something good with his life.


	42. More Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sheith and the girls hunker down in the Brood Palace.

The Council spent the next few weeks sending messengers to nearby communities. Some of the races welcomed mixed race families with open arms. Others, like the dwarves and Deep Elves, would only accept their own kind. Fortunately, those were two of the species that could survive the trip.  
   The first human settlement they approached wouldn't take elves, but they were fine with dwarves and halflings. The second was fine with elves and halflings, but not dwarves.   
   The gnomes regretted to say that their settlements were not designed for large people, and halflings didn't get along with gnomes.  
   Elves were willing to give sanctuary to people on a case by case basis. They flat-out refused to take in any of the deep races, however.  
   As expected, the trolls were not welcome anywhere. The mushroom ents, by and large, refused to part from their  _kuren_  friends. They were curious to see the new land.  
   The gypsy halflings, migratory by nature, were the first to request to leave. They would have simply left, but the Guardians at the Gate had been doubled.  
   The fey could wink out of this plane and into their own at a moment's notice, so they were largely unconcerned. They simply  transported any valuable items to their home plane, and went on about their business.  
   The Deep Dwarves, when consulted, were not happy that their home tunnels would be disrupted, if not destroyed.  
   “Why don't ye just abandon the tunnels that were built after Landing, and shore them up? That should minimize structural trauma,” Fura suggested. As a dwarf, she was familiar with subterranean architecture.  
   “Ya dinna understand. People  _live_  along those tunnels. We're losing livin’ space that was already limited. Isn't there some way you lot can, I dunno, lift the beast out? Ancient schematics show that where Her legs are now used ta be a valley. Sediment accumulated under Her belly, which we've been using for farming.”  
   Karakuul perked up. “So you've got a way to Her underbelly? We've been thinking we could shore up Her belly from underneath, to minimize weak spots where the Darkness could get through.”  
   Bragg, the Deep Dwarf emissary, nodded. “The tunnels are heavily fortified, due to the softness of the earth, but if yer brave enough, aye. It can be done.”  
   Volunteers from both sides were recruited for the project, and the evacuation continued.

   Sheith, Elein, Mira, Serah, and Murieta were the only ones left. They broke up the duties evenly, according to skill. Serah acquired food, she didn't say how. Elein cooked the meager supplies, mostly into stews. He didn't ask how or where she did the cooking without breaking the law. They needed sustenance for the lives they carried.   
   The rest split up the cleaning. They all moved into a cluster of rooms near the bathing chamber, to make it easier. They scrounged what they could from the other rooms, and closed them off.  
   Elein, the Trueblood kuren, wasn't pregnant, but she had nowhere else to go. She wasn't particularly kind, or understanding. Murieta was, but she was in the same predicament as Sheith. Mira and Serah were further along than either he or Murieta.   
   Somehow, the other girls found out he was carrying the Elder’s child. He was teased by some, and resented by others.   
   “Ooh la, ain't that something? How was it with the big fella, eh?”  
   “Bet you think you're all that now, huh?”  
   “Maybe they'll let you live with them.” This was from the daydreamer, Mira. She didn't understand why he didn't go up to “the big house”.  
   He worked twice as hard, to prove that he didn't think himself any better than anyone else. He ate no more than anyone else, either. The only difference was, he began wearing breeches. He was a man, and he would dress as such, until a skirt was necessary. Only when his time was near would he stoop to dressing as a woman.  
   Mira, formerly known as Myrrah, went to register. She hoped to find sanctuary somewhere, but she was told that she could not leave the Cavern until she gave birth. Serah, formerly Sarah, went with her, and received the same news. Murieta registered, without much hope of being placed anywhere after her baby was born.  
   Elein didn't bother to register. She said that nobody cared what happened to her. She could have left any time she wanted, but she'd become institutionalized. She would live out the remainder of her days in the big, empty building, until the Great Collapse.  
   Sheith knew he should register. He had family that might be wondering where he was. But that family was the very reason he  _didn't_  make his presence known. He was pregnant with a half-orc’s child, having lived a life of sin. He couldn't face them until he'd done what he set out to do. If he survived the process, he would drop the baby at its father’s door and find his family.  
   He still remembered his little sister. She was three years old at the time, and cute as a button. People often mistook them for sisters. He was ten years older than her, which meant that she was his responsibility while their mother was painting.   
   He was supposed to be watching her when he was kidnapped. Instead, he'd gone out to stretch his legs. He wondered now how she turned out, being raised by their flighty, absent-minded mother. She'd been a strong-willed child, her emerald hair streaming behind her as she ran free. She climbed mushrooms, Crystal clusters, and even houses.  
   Even when she fell, she popped right back up. Never stopped moving, that one.  
   He'd been enjoying a stroll, unimpeded for once, when he saw the creepy old bird digging in a garden. He wondered what it was that was so important about that particular garden.  
   One day, he decided to find out. He cut his hair short, which saved time for his cleaning duties anyway, and put on the only clothes he could find. He still remembered which garden he'd seen the Bishop rooting around in.  
   He found the section of the garden easily enough. Nothing grew there. He looked around to make sure no one was looking before he clawed at the soil. Gardens were never planted very deep, because they were essentially compost heaped onto Kaia’s epidermis.  
   What he found confused him. It looked like some sort of signet ring, made entirely out of crystal. He didn't know how it was made, or grown, but he knew it must be valuable. He tucked it in his pocket and made his way back.  
   It was the last time he left the Brood Palace, for Guards roamed everywhere. He didn't want to risk being seen before the baby was born, and the questions that would arise.


	43. Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that kind of release. We all knew it was going to happen.

Ealishe sat in her room, idly running a brush through her long, emerald locks and brooding over what her mother told her at her wedding. She'd debated even going, but she was still her mother. Livveth hadn't gone to her coronation, but she didn't know the Elder that was being acknowledged was her daughter.  
   She'd been late to the wedding, because she spied an Oracle child that was crying and lost. She brought him to the dormitory, Gromm close at her heels.  
   She'd snuck in and dropped into a pew at the back of the small Deep Elf chapel. Her husband's weight caused it to squeak, drawing a few curious glances.  
   The ceremony was beautiful. She'd tried very hard not to think about her own impromptu handfasting, or the lack of rings. At least she had worn a lovely dress for it. She debated whether or not to tell Livveth about it, but the time wasn't right.  
   It was at the reception that her mother dropped the bomb. She told her daughter that she had indeed lost a child.  
   With a faraway look in her eye, she said “His name is Sheith. We lost him fifteen years ago. He was with you that morning, and then… gone. Your father gave up hope, but I never did.”  
   “What does he look like?”  
   Livveth smiled. “Blue all over. Hair, eyes, skin… all blue. He looked just like you.” She cupped her cheek, eyes dewy.  
   Gromm returned from a trip to the refreshment table and handed the ladies glasses of punch. He saw how shaken his wife was, but he could wait to hear what was wrong.

   He'd been waiting for weeks. She evaded any attempts to probe into the issue. She withdrew into herself more than usual. She tried to remember the brother her mother spoke of, but all she could recall was a tall figure. She didn't know if it was her brother or her father.  
   She buried herself in work. Against his better wishes, and Captain Lyesha’s objections, she joined the Guard. She had Zezu and Gromm bind her wings so she could get into the uniform, with its short cape that mimicked said wings. Gromm donned a similar uniform some days, but she preferred when Lyesha accompanied her. Fewer people would make the connection than if she was seen with the only male half-orc in the Cavern.   
   “You are far too conspicuous,” she snapped.  
   He only stayed home when he knew the Captain of the Sovereign Guard was with her. He was worried about his wife pushing herself too hard. He didn't know that the reason she went out nearly every day was to look for her brother. If he had, he would have been out looking, himself.  
   She was gone so much of the time that he forgot to ask if she had a sibling. If he had, he could have spared her much heartache. When she was home, however, she was cold and distant. Even when he helped bind her wings, she held herself apart from him. She stayed out late, and if he wasn't listening for her, she would have Zezu unbind her. Even if he did hear her drag her weary body home, she would still insist that the dark eunuch unbind her.  
   After a month, he decided enough was enough. He was her husband, whether she liked it or not. He told Zezu that he would like to unwrap his wife. The man simply inclined his head.  
   Privately, he thought it had gone on too long already. He would remain in the room, hidden if need be, in case his Lady Elder pushed the orc too far, but she needed to talk to someone.  
   Gromm took… precautionary measures, before entering her room that night. Several times, just to be sure that he could be clear-headed and rational. One of them had to be.  
   He took a few deep breaths when he heard her door close. He felt calm, composed. He tried to hold onto that serenity as he strode into her room without knocking; a tactic that the eunuch was aware he would employ. In fact, he secretly approved. It gave her no time to raise her defenses against him.  
   Zezu closed the door after him, and blended with the shadows in the corner. It appeared that the orc and his wife were alone.  
   “I would speak with you,” Gromm said firmly, no hint of sulfur in his eyes. “I have put up with this self-destructive behavior long enough.”  
   Ealishe swayed on her feet, but her gaze sparked a defiant red. “What behavior is it that you disapprove of, husband?”  
   It irked him that she only said that word with negative undertones, but he let it slide in the interest of peace.  
   “Instead of learning how to control the Communion, you exhaust yourself doing work that anyone can do. We do not know how often you will be required to speak with the entire Cavern as a whole; although once the caravans begin to arrive, it would be a most efficient method of notification.”  
   He walked toward her as he spoke. He turned her resisting body away and reached beneath the royal blue tunic for her binding. She fought him, but as he said, she wore herself too thin.  
   “And you bind wings that need room to grow. Do ye never wish to fly?” He ran his thick fingers up and down her back in search of the loose end, but it felt flat all around. He skimmed her sides, but there was no bump in the garment.  
   He put his mouth near her auditory canal and half-growled “Where is the fold, wife? I've not the patience to search all night.”  
   She whipped the shirt over her head without warning and turned to face him. “The end is tucked the one place you won't touch me,” she challenged.  
   He kept his eyes on her face, though it was an effort to do so. “There are many places I do not touch you, for propriety’s sake,” he murmured.   
   His voice, pitched low and faintly husky, sent a shiver down her spine. Her eyelids quivered briefly.  
   “Why does it matter so much to you? Need I remind you that we are married?”  
   He didn't know what to do with his hands, so he set them safely on her shoulders. “A marriage of convenience, I must remind you.”  
   She jerked the end of her wrap free. Between the young bosom and fledgling wings, it unraveled on its own, painstakingly slowly.  
   “So you feel nothing, then?” Her eyes bored a crimson defiance into his.  _Let him deny it now,_  she thought a trifle madly.  
   He reached for her shirt and draped it over her chest. “Do not test me, little one. A man has his limits.”  
   Tears of frustration shimmered on her lower lids, further testing those limits.  
   “So you don't desire your own wife, but you can lie with a stranger?”  
   He sighed heavily.  _Not this again,_ he thought. He scrubbed both hands down his face.  
   “That was mostly due to her skills,” he said into his palms. “I merely reacted to the practiced wiles of a courtesan. And despite living together, we are practically strangers.”  
   She pulled his paws from his face and held them with her much smaller ones. “What do you mean ‘mostly’?”  
   He looked away, uncomfortable. She let go of one hand to haul his face around by his chin horns.  
   “Look me in the eye and tell me you feel nothing for her,” she demanded.  
   “She may be carrying my child! I could never say such a thing.”  
   Ealishe tugged his horns downward. “That is all you feel? There is no attraction whatsoever?”  
   His eyes closed tightly against a tide of lust, but it was not for the blue lady. His wife was pressed full-length against him, and the tunic had fallen to the floor. His body reacted naturally, despite images of dancing gnomes.  
   She thrust him from her in disgust. She would have turned away, but he hauled her to his chest in an iron grip.  
   “That is not for some blue belle in a gilded cage. It is because of this,” he said, wrapping his arms all the way around until they overlapped at the sides of her breasts. There was at last a topaz glow in his eye.  
   She shivered, head to toe. Her eyes flickered an uncertain scarlet. She swayed into him, and he shuddered.  
   “I must go,” he rattled unsteadily.  
   “Don't you dare,” she growled back. “Too many times you've left me wanting something, and I don't even know what it is.”  
   “Our agreement,” he protested weakly.  
   “Was made without thought,” she finished. “I am canceling the roommate clause, for I'll go mad if it stands.”  
   He chuckled tightly. “Not if I go mad first.”  
   She pulled his head down by the horns she still held, and pressed her lips to his muzzle. He groaned, held himself still for all of ten seconds before he capitulated.  
   Childishly, they kissed with their mouths closed, for neither knew any better. Their lips fused, twisted for the best fit. She clutched his jerkin in one fist, his chin horns in the other. He stroked the sides of her breasts, but it wasn't enough. One hand moved low and gripped her tighter to him. She was a full head shorter than him, so his burden dug into her belly.  
   Ealishe wanted to be closer to him than she was. She wanted to feel his scales grinding against hers. She ran her talons down his torso, under the leather that thwarted her. It thrilled her when her unpracticed hands on his skin sent a shudder through him. She pushed the garment as high as she could with his arms around her, rubbed her belly against his.  
   He broke the kiss to yank the jerkin over his head. When his hands were empty, they caressed her young, nubile body, exploring every inch of exposed flesh. Likewise, she appreciated his smooth, hairless chest.  
   On impulse, she leaned forward and kissed the muscular pectorals. He groaned, hauled her mouth back to his. His tusks rubbed her cheeks, but she was past caring. Her hands wandered at will, discovering every bulge and dip of his torso. When one finger grazed the top of his breeches, he froze. Intrigued, she tugged at his laces.  
   He tore his mouth from hers and grated a single word:  _“don't!”_  
   She blinked up at him, dazed and swollen in places she didn't think about very often. His forehead dug into hers, their horns clacking together as he twisted his head side to side.  
   “Why not? Isn't that where this is headed?”  
   “I mustn't endanger your life,” he panted.  
   “I trust you,” she said. “You've proven you can do it without hurting anyone. Please, don't leave me again.” Her hands graced his cheeks like two butterflies. Her lips rested lightly on his.  
   She leaned into him, rubbed her untested body against his in slow circles that drove him beyond reason.  
   He tore the breeches from her, snaps parting with sharp metallic cries. She did the same for him, shucked them neatly down his sinewy legs.  
   One burly leg lodged between hers, lifted her up onto the bed. It startled an excited squeal out of her. He tilted her toward the pillows as she fell, landing atop her. Her hands eagerly sought the new expanse of skin, as did his.  
   His muzzle grazed one taut peak, and she gasped. Her talons nicked his buttocks, not that either noticed. He teased the wine-colored bud with lips, tongue, even the rough sides of his tusks. She writhed beneath him, leaving thin scratches up his back and shoulders.  
   He gave its twin similar treatment, to the accompaniment of throaty sighs. Her palms skimmed his face while her eyes drank in the sight of his mouth on her body.  
   She arched against him, begging for release from the unknown pressure that built low in her belly. His muzzle moved up, agonizingly slowly, and his other knee settled between her legs. One hand slid down her side, up that leg, pulled her knee toward his shoulder. The other leg bent on its own, nudged his hip.  
   His mouth reached her neck, and he clamped his teeth on her scales in a silent command to be still. His free hand trailed down her heaving chest and stomach, seeking the place that wept for him.  
   What he found confused him. Instead of two openings, there were  _three!_    
   Going off of previous experience, he guided himself to the topmost orifice. He nudged experimentally, but she cried out in pain.  _Okay, not that one,_ he thought.  
   He knew not to try the bottom one. The courtesan had flatly refused, said it was an exit only.  
    _Right, I hope it's this one._  He set the tip just inside the middle portal, kissed her in apology, and gave a shallow thrust. The sound that vibrated his lips was  _definitely_  favorable.  
   He sighed and sank the rest of the way into her warm sheath. On familiar territory once more, he feathered short strokes at her core. She panted, dug her talons into his tough shoulders. He teased her higher and higher, holding tight to the control that was so vital to her survival. Only when she begged did he draw all the way out and dive deep, again and again, faster and shorter. Her legs gripped his ribcage with surprising force, claws buried deep in his hide.  
   She stiffened and cried out, limbs locked around him. He buried himself to the hilt, losing the last shred of control in one blinding pulse. A feral roar was ripped from him.  
   Zezu would have stepped in, upon hearing the sound, but blood trickled down the half-orc’s arms and back. His Lady Elder had given as good as she got.


	44. Furious Afterglow

Gromm managed to remember to collapse sideways when he was spent. His breathing was ragged, but he'd never felt better. He kept one heavy arm and leg across his wife, reluctant to lose contact with her just yet. She curled toward him, a hand resting limply on his bicep, just as reluctant to lose the intimacy they'd shared.  
   They struggled for air, nearly nose to nose. Wide, glassy eyes stared into equally wide eyes. Ever so slowly, a smile spread across her face. An answering grin stretched his muzzle.  
   “Now I see what all the fuss is about,” she smirked.  
   She caught sight of a drop of blood on her hand and frowned. “Is there supposed to be blood? That seems awfully messy…”  
   He sat up, alarmed, and searched for any damage he may have done. He called himself every kind of fool for giving in so easily. He'd risked her life for momentary pleasure, and now she was  _bleeding!_  
   The only thing he found was a few scratches that didn't break her delicate skin. He scratched his head.  
   “I don't know where--”  
   “Your arm!” she yelped.  
   He looked where she pointed, and sure enough, a few lines of red marred his slate hide. Four lines, to be precise.  
   He couldn't help it. He knelt there on his wife's bed, naked as the day he was born, and he laughed.  
   “I don't see what's so funny,” she grumbled. She saw the pattern, and the dried blood on her talons, and felt horrible.  
   He scooped her up in a bear hug, laughing at the ceiling. When he could speak, he kissed her soundly and said “Here  _I_  was worried about hurting  _you!”_  
   A snort escaped before her serious face could return. An echoing snicker from the corner was masked before it reached their ears.  
   “Well, you still need bandaging. I don't know if there will be scarring.” She waggled a finger at him like a schoolmarm. He kissed her finger and got up to look for rags.  
   “Your back!” she gasped.  
   He twisted, but couldn't see what she saw. She moaned and covered her face. He just chuckled and started opening drawers. He had to suppress a shout when a dark arm materialized with a basket. He stuck his tongue out at the eunuch, too happy to be dignified.  
   “Here, now, it's not so bad. Whatever your puny claws did, I can't even feel it. Heyla, look at me. Do I look like I'm on the verge of death?”  
   She peeked out at her very healthy husband, reluctantly wobbled her head no.  
   “So it went better than most orc matings.”  
   She chortled, then felt bad for laughing. He just smiled at her and handed the basket over.  
   He turned his back to his lover, which was all but unheard of in his mother's culture. Unlike a she-orc, Ealishe gently dabbed the scratches, and the gouges on his ribs. She laid sticky plaster over each wound, trying and failing to count them. They overlapped in spots, making it difficult to count.  
   When she was finished, he twisted around and kissed her senseless. He even licked her lips!  
   “Was that for the bandages, or the scratches?” she panted.  
   He smirked. “Both.”  
   She twined her arms around his neck and slowly traced his lips with the tip of her tongue. His entire body trembled. Her tongue darted into the gap from which air gusted erratically. He swung around and crushed her to him, bandages bedamned.   
   His tongue traced her teeth, while hers circled around it to do the same. She caught his between her teeth and experimentally suckled. His body shook from head to toe. Intrigued, she swirled her tongue around his, not breaking the suction.  
   He pinned her to the mattress, wedged a knee between her legs, too lost to notice that they parted readily. Their mouths battled for dominance, teeth clashing, chin horns butting. He thrust into his wife without so much as a by-your-leave, and she hauled him close with her heels digging into his buttocks. This was no gentle introduction. This was two aggressive lovers venting lust on each other. They had claws, and scales, and neither held back this time.  
   To minimize the damage, he was just sane enough to snatch her hands and lock claws to either side of her head. Their eyes blazed in unison, becoming a rosy gold glow that lit the bedroom. When the climax shook their foundations, both threw back their heads and bellowed their release.  
   Gromm toppled over, gasping for air. Ealishe followed, curling against his side. Her head rested on his heaving chest.   
   They lay that way, sweat drying on their hides, until they fell into exhausted oblivion.


	45. Strange Bedfellows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't going so well in the former Brood Palace...

While the Elder lay in the arms of her husband, the brood mares in their empty Palace mourned a loss. Mira had borne the child of an unknown father, two months too soon. While the babe struggled to live, her mother wept and prayed. She hadn't intended on keeping her, but when she laid eyes on the tiny child, she felt mother-love for the first time. Unfortunately, the strain on her body had taken a toll on the baby. Her lungs could not cope with the outside world yet.  
   “That's why she took Sharla, and she left  _us,”_  she said bitterly. “She hasn't been bred as many times as we have. She lied to keep  _her,_  and left  _us_  here to starve! We've outlived our usefulness.”  
   It broke their hearts to see the normally optimistic Mira turn churlish and sullen. She huddled in Serah’s arms, but seemed to draw little comfort from them.  
   Elein buried the cold body in the garden by their makeshift home. She also reported the death to the registrar. The old man looked sad, dutifully adding Mira’s name to the list of elves in the next evacuation. He offered condolences, which Elein didn't know how to reply to. She mumbled something, and shuffled away.  
   Elein stumbled blindly through the thinning crowd, upset and confused. She didn't want children of her own, so why did the loss of one that wasn't even hers bother her so much?  
   She walked toward her room, on autopilot. She bumped into someone and apologized automatically.  
   “Heyla, taking it a bit hard?”  
   Onyx eyes snapped up to meet sapphire. “Why do you say that?” she snarled.  
   “Hey, don't take it out on me,” he said, palms in the air.  
   She started to say something, but all that came out was a sob.  
   Sheith hesitantly put his arms around her, ready to back away if she lashed out again. She didn't. She clutched fistfuls of tunic, howling at the injustices of the world.  
   Eventually, she calmed a bit. When she looked up at him, there was a glint in her eye that made him nervous.  
   “Take me to my room,” she demanded.  
   “O...kay…” He walked the short distance, touching her nowhere but her shoulders. She was fragile right now, and he wasn't sure what would set her off.  
   When they reached her door, he removed his arm from her shoulders. He stepped away, but she moved with him.  
   “I meant for you to come with me,” she said. None of their practiced wiles tainted her request.  
   “I think you need to rest,” he demurred.  
   She hauled him close, fist twisted in his tunic. “What I need, pretty boy, is a good tumble in the sack with somebody of  _my_  choosing.”  
   Sheith protested “I'm the only man here. That's not much of a choice.”  
   “There are so few choices left right now. I'm not fit for ordinary men, and you know it. I. Choose.  _You.”_  She emphasized each word with a tug on his shirt, pulling him into her room. She closed the door and pinned him against it.  
   “I know you. I need you. And I think you want to screw a woman before everything crumbles around our heads, yeah?”  
   She had him there. He still considered himself straight, and here was a woman who wanted him, as he was. As a man. His body reacted normally, which he'd begun to fear it never would again.

   Captain Lyesha eyed the tiny gnome skeptically. “What help do you offer the Guard, Minks Spannerwocket?”  
   The green-haired man stood as tall as he could. “I can protect the volunteers you sent to shore up Her underbelly.”  
   Lyesha twitched. “And what makes you think that's what we're doing?”  
   “My cousin's already down there, that's how!”  
   “Your… cousin? I've not approved any gnomes for subterranean work yet.”  
   The little green-clad chest puffed out with pride. “Nah, my cousin's a Deep Dwarf. You shouldn't look so surprised, Captain, ma'am.  There's all sorts of strange families down here.”  
   She grudgingly admitted that he was correct. “But how do you propose to protect your cousin and the others? Your people aren't exactly known for their brawn.”  
   The gnome cackled. “Nah, mum, that's why we mastered  _magic!”_  
   Lyesha stroked her chin horns thoughtfully. “And just which branch of magic have you personally mastered?”  
   He did a little hop before enlightening her, grinning widely. “I'm an elemental mage! If’n the tunnel looks like it's gonna fall on yer heads, I can hold it till yer safe!”  
   She had him demonstrate his skills with the different elements. He passed with flying colors. “All right, you're officially assigned to the digging crew. I'll put you with your cousin, because frankly, I'm not sure I could trust anyone else to watch your back. What's his or her name?”  
   That was how a gnome ended up in the tunnels.


	46. Zesu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, that's not a typo.

In the morning, Gromm was the first to wake. He was momentarily disoriented to see his wife's face before him in repose, until the night’s events trickled into his sleep-fogged brain.  
   He debated going back to his room before she woke, but that was the coward’s way. More importantly, his wife said that he'd left her too many times already.  
   His paw flexed on her hip when he remembered the sensations she'd aroused in him. Just thinking about it made his loins tighten.  
   She grumbled in her sleep and flipped over. He pulled her possessively closer; buttocks to groin, wings to chest. He nuzzled her hair, loving the smell of it. It was musky and sleep-tousled.  
   She murmured and leaned into him, full length. He grunted when her hips and tail pressed into his erection. He wished she'd wake, but he wouldn't rush it. He enjoyed feeling her body aligned with his.  
   He knew she was awake when her tail began to wander over his lower body. He returned the favor, relearning every curve and dip of her body. She purred, arched against him.  
   He'd been taught well, by the courtesan and by his wife. Though his body was more than ready to copulate, he made sure that she was equally eager. He spared nothing in adoration of his lovely violet temptress. He didn't know how much time he would have with her in a receptive frame of mind, but he fully intended to enjoy what time he was given.  
   Mindful of the plasters on his back, he decided to let her take the reins. He was afraid that he would tear them in his enthusiasm. She was puzzled when he rolled her on top of him, but his little she-orc was nothing if not adventurous.  
   She wriggled until their hips aligned, without any of the artifice employed by a professional. It was somehow more erotic that way. She pressed kisses wherever her mouth happened to be. It became a struggle to remain passive, but he wouldn't deny her this pleasure.  
   She hovered over him, the middle aperture her intended goal. Oddly enough, she couldn't find it. She even reached down to double check, but it was gone!  
   Curious, she angled toward the top entrance. Maybe it only hurt last night because she was a virgin? She dipped cautiously, and it stretched a bit. It wasn't comfortable, but after many shallow feints, her body accepted the strange new addition. In fact, once she'd adjusted, it was a  _much_  more pleasant experience!  
   He could feel the difference, too. It was tighter, shorter. When she dropped all the way, it took enormous effort to avoid losing control. Every stroke ended with a tap on his head, and a sharp burst of ecstasy. He cried out, eyes shooting sunbeams at the ceiling.  
   She was with him, shudder for shudder, moan for moan. She'd never felt so powerful, so complete, until the whole world seemed to shatter into a million glorious pieces.  
   She collapsed on his chest, gasping and dazed. She couldn't see past the crimson sparkles dancing across her vision. His lungs struggled just as hard for air. Had she the energy, she would have moved off of him, but she was having a hard time remembering how limbs worked.  
   After an eternity, the world righted itself. She kissed the hard scales beneath her, too overcome for words. A groan vibrated her breasts and belly.  
   “Please be still, love. I don't know how much more I can take just now.”  
   A delicious grin stretched from cheek to cheek. Flush with newfound power, she rubbed her body against his, nipping his solid flesh anywhere that struck her fancy.  
   Needless to say, it was a very long time before she sailed into the Council Chambers. No one commented on her tardiness, or the flush in her cheeks. Not a soul looked at her equally sated husband, or her omnipresent eunuch. They did, however, shoot one another a few self-satisfied smirks. In a world gone topsy-turvy, a successful matchmaking was cause for celebration--later, of course. It would be undignified to do so now.

   Captain Lyesha decided to show Ealishe something that few people noticed. She'd waited for a day like today, when the Elder was in a good mood.   
   “I don't… What am I looking at?” the younger woman asked.  
   “Those are burns from the thing that blasted this hole in Kaia.” Lyesha’s voice had a hard edge to it.  
   “Wait, so the Gate is… plugging up the hole?” Dark gray smudges marred the outline of the Gate, radiating out from the iron structure. She wondered why she never saw the huge, sooty marks.  
   “How did it happen, do you think?”  
   “Nobody knows for sure. What we do know is, it might not have happened if  _Zesu_  hadn't abandoned His post.”  
   “Did you say Zezu?” Ealishe asked, startled.  
   “No, My Lady, I said  _Zesu.”_  
   “I… I'm not sure what the difference is, but who--or what--is this  _Zesu?”_  She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.  
   “The guardian of  _Oban’dal,_  of course. One of the Elder Gods. He was supposed to be watching over the derpie migration. No one knows where he went, then or now.”  
   “So I'm guessing nobody knows what He looks like.”  
   Lyesha stiffened.  _“I_  would know Him!”  
   Under her breath, Ealishe said she rather doubted it.  
   “It's in the eyes, My Lady. His eyes shine like polished silver. I'd know those eyes anywhere.”  
   That gave her pause. Zezu’s eyes were brown.  
   All the same, Ealishe confronted Zezu when she got home that night. She walked as quietly as possible, to avoid involving her husband.  
   She closed the door gently, faced her personal eunuch, and whispered  _“Zesu”._  His eyelids flickered, faster than her eye could follow. Though He clearly fought it, silver lit His irises like quicksilver.  
   “I knew it! When Lyesha told me--”  
   Zezu, aka  _Zesu_  clapped a hand over her mouth. In His strange, echoing voice, He ordered her to silence.  
   “No one must know. No one.”  
   When He removed His broad, mahogany palm, she asked what went wrong. His face twisted into something she no longer recognized.  
   “I managed to slay the beast that damaged Kaia, but not before it crippled Her. She will never swim underwater, and it is My fault.”  
   “Don't be stupid,” she chastised the Elder God. “Even  _You_  cannot be in two places at once. But what about the derpie migration? Lyesha said You were the one who watched over it. Who does that now?”  
   The unrecognizable visage twisted further. “The shepherds do. I must protect Kaia and Her children. It is My penance.”  
   “So the Guardian of  _Oban’dal_  hides inside a Great Tantalus?” she taunted recklessly.  
   The frightening creature pinned her to the wall, a wood-grained hand on each shoulder.  _“Oban’dal_  was already dying. I am protecting it by protecting  _you._  You and your kin are the last hope for Oban’dal. I  _will not_  fail again.” The echo of His words thrummed through the room like a death knell. His silver eyes leaked equally silver tears.  
   Ealishe didn't know what to say to that. She slipped her thin arms around His torso. He let go of her shoulders to accept the embrace of the mortal. In a way, she was His child. He considered every  _kuren_  and tantalus to be His family. He was the oldest being known to the  _kuren,_  so all of them were like His children.  
   As He gripped her to Him, He altered her mind subtly. It was vital that His secret be kept. He made it so she couldn't reveal what she learned. He would have to do the same for Gromm tonight, while he slept.


	47. Sheith's Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bishop Krakk makes his move, and Ealishe finds Sheith... sort of.

Bishop Krakk waited for his chance to eliminate the new Elder, but she was always guarded. She rarely left her quarters, and only then to attend Council meetings.  
   Even when he noticed that the Captain went into the big suite alone, and came out with the same purple protégé, he could not act on his suspicions. The man never left her alone, which in itself was a tell. He wondered why no one else figured it out.  
   He bumped into her once. Even while he patted her back in apology, he was cawing inside. There was a distinct bump beneath the short cape. _He'd found the Elder!_  
   The Captain never left her side, however. He crept from shadow to shadow, waiting for his chance.  
   What he didn't know was, while Lyesha couldn't see him, the incense in his feathers gave her a headache. She always knew when he was near, though she gave no sign.  
   One day, she decided to let him think he had a shot at whatever he was plotting. She positioned Gromm behind a Crystal, along with two of her most trusted Guardians behind buildings nearby. She motioned for Ealishe to stay put and calmly strode into the Barracks. The location would have dissuaded a sane person. If she so much as yelped, Guardians would boil out of the building in a snap.  
   Krakk thought he had the upper hand. He had the soporific that he'd used on Sheith. He snuck up behind her, unaware of the hidden men, or her stiff-legged stance.  
   When the smell became unbearable, Ealishe dropped into a leg sweep. She heard the big bird land on his back. She immediately spun and planted a foot on his chest.  
   “What do you want with me, old man?” she demanded.  
   “ _Nyaak!_ Help! I'm being attacked!” he squawked.  
   Not one single Guardian appeared. She dug her toe talons into his vestments, aware that she would need to bathe afterwards.  
   “Speak!” she ordered.  
   “I do nothing, Honored One, I swear!”  
   Her onyx eyes narrowed. “You know who I am. How?”  
   He told her, pretending to cower. When she realized how stupid she'd been, her guard relaxed. He grabbed her ankle and wrenched it sideways. She fell, but not the way he expected. Her knee dropped to the soft ground in a controlled fall. Her other knee rammed his chest, and both clawed hands pinned his throat to the ground.  
   Her eyes remained calm throughout, without a trace of crimson. She'd been well trained, by the Captain herself. She peered down at him with a dispassionate ebony gaze.  
   “If I ever see you anywhere near me, I won't hesitate to kill you. I'd take back alleys from now on, because I might not believe you, if you claim coincidence. Better yet,  _leave.”_  
   She thrust herself away from, as if she couldn't stomach his presence anymore. She stalked homeward, followed by the three hidden protectors he'd never seen.  
   He realized how close he'd come to dying, and reassessed his life.

   “If  _he_  figured it out...” Lyesha started to say.  
   “I  _know,_  but I still haven't found my brother!” Ealishe said.  
   “So you do have siblings,” Gromm mused. She whirled on him, eyes blazing an anxious vermillion.  
   “You've  _seen_  him?!”  
   He scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Well, ah, I can't rightly say if I saw a he or a she, but they definitely bore a resemblance to you.” His cheeks burned, and he couldn't look her in the eye.  
   “Captain, we can discuss this later. My husband and I need a word.” She never took her eyes off of him, even when the door closed behind Lyesha.  
   “That's what you meant, isn't it? When you said it wasn't just her skills. You meant…” her voice faltered. “You slept with him because he looks like me.”  
   Gromm covered his face. “Gods above, so it  _was_  a male. I didn't know.” He looked her in the eye. “I thought he was a girl. I don't… I'm not…”  
   Ealishe was already out the door. He swore and ran after her. He knew where she was going, whether or not he could outdistance her.  
   She pounded on the door with both fists, calling her brother's name. Gromm added his considerable strength, slamming into the door with all his might. The fact that it held meant they must have barricaded it.  
   “ _SHEITH!_ Come out here,  _please!”_  she begged. Over and over, until her voice was a ragged whisper, she cried out for him.  
   On the other side of the barricade, tears streamed unchecked down his face. He could hear the despair in his little sister's voice, but he misinterpreted it. Where she wept with worry, he heard shame.  
    _Shards, how did she_  find  _me? I didn't register!_  
   The estranged siblings collapsed on either side of the piled debris, wrapped in misery with disparate sources. Sheith knew there was a back door, but she must not have. Eventually, the barrage ceased. An all too familiar voice rumbled something he couldn't hear, and his heart accelerated.  
    _He_  told  _her?! What's_  he  _doing here? Oh gods, I can't face_  both  _of them!_  He covered his head with both arms to block out the disturbing images that bombarded him.  
   That was how Mira found him.

   Ealishe allowed her husband to carry her home, too drained to care. She buried her head in his broad chest and wept tears she'd thought were spent. He sat on her bed, against the pillows, and held her. He didn't try to talk to her. For once, she was glad of his perpetual silence.  
   When she could cry no more, he handed her a glass of cool tea. She gratefully downed it, handed the cup back. She curled around his torso as tightly as she could, drawing strength from his solid presence. He held her, stroked her back soothingly.  
   When his fingers skimmed over the bumps of her wings, he reached under her tunic to unwrap them. She reluctantly sat up long enough to be unbound, then clung to him like a limpet.  
   They lay like that, fully clothed, until she fell asleep. He lay awake long after, plagued by regrets. The only consolation he had was that if he hadn't gone to that place, Ealishe would still be exhausting herself looking for him.


	48. Grief Upon Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The siblings slowly wither and wilt.

Mira did for Sheith what Gromm did for his sister. The only difference was, he found solace in her body. It had been a month since her babe died, and she needed comfort as badly as he did.   
   Word must have gotten around, because after that, all of the girls sought his company. At first, he tried turning them down gently. The ones who hadn't slept with him asked why he didn't like them, and the ones he had slept with shunned him until he shared his gifts with all of the girls.  
   It baffled him. He couldn't understand why these women would demand something from him that they'd been forced to give others. He tried telling them that they were more than playthings. They asserted their free will, but in a misguided direction. It was their choice, yet they all chose the same path.  
   As time wore on, his meager reserves were stretched thin. His winged cheeks took on a hollow cast. His belly was smaller than it had been in pregnancies past. His hips were dangerously narrow. He still ate as much as the other girls, despite doing twice as much. Even when Serah, then Mira, both pregnant with his child, were evacuated, he didn't increase his intake. Without Serah to find the food, they had to make do with the dwindling garden crops. Elein never did tell them how she made her stews, and he was always too hungry to care.  
   She was forever harping on him to go to the big house, but she always said it defiantly. She, too, was carrying his child. She dared him to leave her, and Murieta, and take the easy route. Murieta, the only brood mare not carrying his offspring, was silent much of the time.  
   Murieta was given the easiest chores, even after Mira and Serah left. She wasn't brought with Magda for the same reason they treated her so gingerly:  
   She had no eyes.   
   She'd made the mistake of looking at a client in Magda’s presence. The penalty was removal of her eyes, to be replaced with colored glass. In her case, it was a pretty green. Without the doctor to wash them, however, they'd begun to fester. The girls would have helped, but the mysterious cleansing solution had been taken with the doctor. They washed them in clean water, but it didn't help.  
   It did not occur to any of them to seek outside help. They thought themselves beneath the good folk of the Cavern. Magda told them so often that nobody would help them if they escaped, they actually believed it.  
   So they slowly starved, and Murieta died a little each day. So far, only Serah’s baby had survived. No one knew if the lives they carried would see the Crystal light of day. Murieta said she didn't care. She hated the unknown father of her child.  
   Elein never said that, but he got the impression she expected him to take the baby after it was born. After all, that's the way it worked in the Brood Palace.  
   As for Sheith, he respected the man who sired his child. He talked to the girls about him, and about his little sister. Tales of his adventures in babysitting made them laugh when nothing else would. He repeated stories, but they never minded. He wanted to be absolutely certain that they would remember.  
   After all, someone would have to tell his sister when he was gone.

   His sister fared little better than him. Though her husband and eunuch forced food into her, she had dark circles under her eyes. She was listless and without humor.  
   She returned to the Brood Palace daily, but her brother never opened the door. For all she knew, he was gone. After all, unlike her, he wasn't trapped Below. He could go Above, under an assumed name.  
   When she inquired, the only all blue kuren who'd left was elderly. She knew there were ways to disguise one's appearance, and because the old woman had been gone for weeks, she would never know if it was her brother.  
   She even asked about blue _kuren_ with different colored hair. The few that she had her Guardians covertly check out came up clean. None of them were her brother.  
   She wore herself to the bone, almost literally. Meron healed her every time she had to use the Crystals to tell people when a convoy was departing. Every time, it got harder. The last time, she nearly didn't come back from the brink. He ordered the Council to find another method of communication.  
   Gromm stopped using his bedroom for everything except babysitting. He refused to leave her alone, for nightmares plagued her sleep. She clung to him afterward, which usually devolved into desperate lovemaking. He could occasionally lull her to sleep, but she seemed to find sex the only effective outlet for her grief.  
   Meron approached him in private after her near-death experience.  
   “You've got to get her to take it easy.”  
   The half-orc’s face was haggard and drawn. Even Lili couldn't get him to smile very often, anymore. “I've tried. Short of drugging her, I don't know what to do.”  
   The monk gripped his arm to make him heed his next words. “You can't drug her now.”  
   “Well, I'm out of options.”  
    _“Find_  more options!”  
   The half-orc focused more attentively on the insistent monk's face. “Why? What's wrong with my wife?”  
   “Nothing is wrong, per se. I just have moral objections to drugging a pregnant woman.”  
   Gromm tried to push past Meron to see his wife, but one of them had been sleeping more or less soundly. Lili dropped into her father's arms, thinking it a game.  
   “She needs her rest. She's sleeping for once, and I intend to keep it that way as long as possible.”  
   One massive paw scrubbed his face. Lili joined the fun by tugging on a braid, which was the only thing she could reach from her father's arms.  
   “Does she know?” he asked.  
   “I can't say. I can tell, however, that you two didn't waste much time getting her that way.”  
   The first blush in two months crept over his rugged cheekbones. “So she's what, three months along?”  
   He thought about her missing brother then. He must be about four months gone. A wave of sadness washed over him. He might never know what his firstborn looked like, or even if it survived.  
   He thanked the monk for telling him. He didn't know how he'd get his wife to rest, but he had a reason to keep trying.


	49. Birth of a New Kuren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Sheith survive?

Sheith felt the first cramp, but it was nothing new. He knew the routine by now. He grabbed a small sand glass, hooked it to his belt, and timed the contraction. When the sand ran out, and no new pain bothered him, he went on with the laundry.  
   Another wave hit him later in the day, and he dutifully tipped the glass. It ran out again, with no more discomfort. Without Magda or the eunuchs, the girls and Sheith had to do for themselves, so he didn't bother stopping his work. Like everyone in the Brood Palace, he'd panicked his first time. The doctor checked him every time he had symptoms, reassuring him that all first-timers went through the same “warming up” process.  
   Just like most first-timers, he mistook the actual event for another false alarm. He didn't go to the doctor until his water broke.  
   He was a seasoned veteran, this time. He did not concern himself until the pains fell within the sand glass. He sought out Elein, who was the furthest from her birthing date, to help him.  
   “What do you expect  _me_ to do?” the _kuren_ snapped. “I was in too much pain to see what was done. Murieta is too far along to be of any use.” She did not mention the blindness. None of them did. “Go find that orc of yours.”  
   Sheith curled his muzzle in distaste. He didn't want to accept her dare, but at this point it would seem he had little choice.  
   He turned on his heel, sand glass swinging at his belt, and stalked out of the Brood Palace. He held his head high, until a spasm doubled him over. He waited for it to pass, doing his best not to panic. There was no guarantee that the orc would know what to do! He silently prayed that someone would be able to help him.  
   When he could stand, he made his way as quickly as he could manage to the big door that must lead to the Elder’s Quarters. A man stood guard, pale and haughty.  
   “I come to deliver something to the Elder’s Consort,” he said formally. He didn't know what he was supposed to say to gain entry, but he figured the truth was probably best.  
   “The Consort has no business with one such as you,” the haughty man said down his nose.  
   A contraction struck him low, right on the causeway. He gritted through his teeth that if he didn't fetch the Consort immediately, he would cause a very public scene. “Whether I want to or not…” he panted.  
   Snow ducked his head inside and called for Zezu. The dark eunuch, who knew of Gromm’s trip to the Brood Palace, swept the sweating lad into His arms and down the hall. His tail dangled limply, dragging on the floor between the powerful eunuch’s feet.  
   Zezu kicked a door on His way to the room next to it. He heard it open, but couldn't see who stepped out, mouth hanging agape.  
   “You found him!”  
   Zezu grimly informed him that  _he_  found  _them._  “Not a moment too soon, either, it would seem.”  
   He lay the man, who was almost as tall as He, on a narrow bed. “Go fetch Murmur. He's seen this before.”  
   Sheith curled in on himself, tipped the sands, and set the detachable glass on the small table beside him. He breathed through it as best he could, not looking at the mahogany giant in the room.  
   “I wouldn't have come, but Magda left months ago. With the doctor.” He huffed and puffed, going to his happy place. He was safe.  
   “How far apart?” A soft voice asked.  
   He opened his eyes, and a thin brunette lay a cool hand on his forehead. “Less than a glass. Water bag still intact.”  
   The soft-spoken man nodded. “You know the drill?”  
   “Breathe through the pains, rest between. Push when I'm told.”  
   “Good, good. I'll get the supplies together. Would you like Gromm to sit with you?”  
   He gazed blearily up at the slightly older man. “Who?”  
   The eunuchs exchanged a Look.  
   “We were not permitted to exchange names,” a familiar voice rumbled nearby.  
   Sheith sat up, adjusted his robe. He patted his hair, conscious that it was much shorter than the last time they met.  
   The eunuchs parted to allow the blue-gray giant into the room.  _He looks older,_  he thought. Deep grooves gouged his eye sockets, and his braid looked untidy.  
   Sheith’s large blue eyes and short hair made him look as vulnerable as he felt. If he'd had a choice, he would have dropped the babe at their door with a note.  
   “I'm sorry, I had nowhere else to go,” he started to apologize.  
   Unexpectedly, the brute pulled him into a hug, and he could swear he was crying. He stroked the wide back, unsure what to do. When a pain zipped across his belly, he clung to that immovable strength until it passed.  
   Gromm drew back, scrubbed his hands over his face. “We've been looking for you. Where  _were_  you?”  
   Sheith looked down at his knotted hands. “Truthfully, I had hoped to avoid seeing you again. We hid in the Brood Palace. I was planning on leaving the babe with the eunuch at the door, only nobody knew what to do, so… I panicked.”  
   The orc hugged him again, not as tightly. “You're safe now, Sheith. You don't have to hide anymore.”  
   He gaped up at the giant. “How do you know my name? Did Magda--”  
   “I'll tell you all about it later. Would you like to see your sister, or should it wait?”  
   “My… you found my sister?  _Hoowwww?”_  He doubled over, trying to remember to breathe when his whole world was being turned upside down.  
   Gromm clapped him on the shoulder when the contraction passed. “Lad, I married her.”  
   Sheith didn't think his heart could handle any more good news. “My sister is the Elder?”  
   A violet head peeked timidly around the door frame. His eyes locked on hers, and tears brimmed in both sets of eyes.  
   “L...Lissa? Is it really you?”  
   “Nobody's called me that in years,” she chided gently.  
   Sheith opened his arms hesitantly, unsure whether she would embrace her shameful brother. She knew where he'd been all these years.  
   Ealishe flew into his arms, mindful of the life struggling to be born. She was sobbing openly, eyes glowing brighter than her husband had ever seen.  
   Much to everyone's surprise, his eyes returned the glow, in purest violet. They'd been trained not to show emotion, so not even Sheith knew he'd been Awakened.  
   “Oh, I'm so  _glad_  we found you, big brother! When you're feeling up to it, you'll have to tell us what happened. Mother never gave up, you know, even if my father did.”  
   Another spasm wrung a single word from him, full of bitterness and hatred:  _“KRAKK!”_  
   Ealishe looked at Gromm. “And we let him go,” she said mournfully. “I'll have the Guard resume the search, in case he's hiding, too.” She rubbed her brother's back, unsure what else to do.  
   When it passed, he flopped against the pillows. It was then that he noticed his sister's swollen belly. He reached out and lay his long fingers over it. She covered his hand with her smaller one. Though she was now taller than him, his hands were bigger.  
   “You've grown, little sister.”  
   She blushed and looked at their stacked hands. “I was just a baby when you were taken. It was bound to happen.”  
   He chuckled tiredly. “I guess you changed your mind about having kids, huh?”  
   Her wide eyes met his wise ones. “He told you?”  
   Sheith nodded. “It's quite common, you knowwww…” He doubled over, hand dropping to the mattress. She grabbed it, unwilling to let go of her big brother for even a moment. He squeezed it until her bones shifted, then wilted against the mattress again.  
   “There's something you need to know, Lissa. It's important.”  
   She sat forward, clutching his hand in both of hers. “Go on.”  
   “You have to listen, and not interrupt.”  
   “Okay.”  
   “This is my fifth birth, in twelve years.” She didn't interrupt, but she gasped in dismay. “I was sixteen the first time. When you start that young… And we haven't been eating too well... Lissa, I may not make it. And I'm okay with that, because I found you. I get to give you the best gift a brother can give his sister.”  
   She openly wept, denying his words. He cupped her face with his other hand, tears spilling over his cheekbones without shame.  
   In the doorway, Gromm let his own sorrow go unchecked. If he died, she would blame him, as he blamed himself. He went to stand on the other side of the little bed, wanting to help but unsure how. When another pain ripped through the lad, he latched onto his paw and clung, curling nose to tail.  
   All at once, things began happening. The bag of waters broke while he clutched his sister and brother-in-law’s hands. Murmur ordered the linens changed. Gromm lifted the too-thin body while Zezu whipped the sheets off and snapped a new sheet in its place. Murmur began setting things out on a table, brought from who-knew-where: a short length of cord, scissors, small cloths, towels, and rags.  
   Sheith refused to let go of either hand, so Murmur was forced to climb onto the bed to check his progress. It wasn't long before he told the younger man he could start pushing.  
   He should have grabbed his knees for leverage, but he couldn't lose contact with the sister he had so little time with. He knew he would not survive, this time.


	50. A Legacy is Born

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...And someone is lost...

Gromm saw what he was trying to do, the narrow spine curving toward the knobby knees. He supported him from behind with each contraction.  
   “Shards, he's stuck. Come on, give it a good shove, boy!”  
   From the doorway, Zezu intervened, though no one noticed. He stretched one burnished palm toward the struggling babe and  _pulled._  He exerted psionic pressure to either side, to try and widen the opening while tugging forward.  
   “There we go! Good lad. The rest should be easy, right?”  
   It wasn't. Broad shoulders lodged sideways in the birth canal. Luckily, Murmur had experience with that problem. He slipped his feminine hands between baby and canal, and slid the folds over the wide shoulders. The rest of the child squelched out on the next push.  
   Sighs of relief whispered through the room. Murmur set the infant on its  _dami’s_  sagging belly, tied and cut the cord.  
   Sheith never got to see his progeny so soon after birth. The only one he'd seen at all was Lili, and that was after she'd been poked and prodded by the doctor. Usually, he was carried back to his room once the afterbirth was delivered, never catching so much as a glimpse of the purple, squirming bundle that he'd borne.  
   Gromm stroked the tiny cheek with a finger almost as big as its face. Ealishe was reluctant to touch the thing that was going to kill her brother. All three adults had tears in their eyes, for different reasons. Sheith would treasure this moment in the afterlife.  
   “Lissa, if that's a boy, could you… Could you name him after me?”  
   She threw her arms around him, sobbing her heart out. “No! I won't do it! You're not going to die, you hear me?”  
   “Aw, Liss, don't say that. Hey, look at me. I'm at peace with it. I've had a hard life. This is my reward. Look after these two, huh? They'll need it. They need you. Let me go.”  
   She clung to him, shaking her head and weeping. When the hand at her back dropped, she wailed like a banshee. She shook his lifeless body, babbling incoherently.  
   Meron tapped the back of her skull gently, and she dropped into his arms. “You were right to call me, Zezu. She would have done herself or the baby irreparable harm if she continued.”  
   The ancient eunuch nodded. He took the Elder from him, since He could carry her to her room. Meron looked at the emaciated body on the bed, and his eyes welled up.  
   “That's Lili’s mother…”  
   Gromm covered him with a sheet respectfully, cradling his child in one palm. “Yes, he was.”  
   The monk stuttered “H-he? But… I thought…”  
   “As did I, at first.”  
   “How… men can't… I don't understand.”  
   Gromm clapped him on the shoulder.  _“Kuren_  are unique, my friend.” Maddeningly, he would say no more.  
   “So, what have you got? Boy or girl?”  
   Gromm eyed the purple, wrinkled sprite, but he could not tell. “Honestly, I don't know.”   
   Then it dawned on him that Lili was his child's half sister.

   Elein waited for Sheith to return, certain that he would survive. Sure, he was thin, but they all were. She waited a full day before going to the big house.  
   She approached the brunette at the door diffidently. In her own demesne, she was haughty and cold. Out in the real world, she didn't quite know how to behave.  
   “I come to inquire after my friend,” she said, eyes downcast.  
   “Who is this friend you speak of?” he asked in a soft voice.  
   “His name is Sheith, and I haven't seen him--”  
   The man's indifferent mask cracked, he reached toward her, and she knew.  
   “No! No, he can't be!”  
   The half-orc heard her, and opened the door. She pointed a shaking finger at him and screeched  _“You!_  If it weren't for you, he'd be alive!”  
   She didn't know what to say when he bowed his great head and said “I know.” Tears trailed down gaunt cheeks.  
   Though torn by grief, she saw that she was not alone. “Listen, can I… Is he already with the Great Tantalus?”  
   He waved her in ahead of him. When the door closed, he said “We don't know what to do with him. My wife had to be sedated, and we don't want to send him down without her knowledge.”  
   “What about his child? Did it..?”  
   He nodded. “Aye, but it's not taking to the bottle as we'd like.”  
   “It?” She stared up at him. “As in you don't know what the child is?”  
   He blushed and shook his head.  
   “Well hell, give me five seconds and I can tell you!” she snapped. He reluctantly opened a door, and there was the child of Sheith, swaddled far too tightly in its bassinet. She clucked her tongue and unwrapped the poor thing.  
   It should've protested the treatment, but it was thin and pale. The reddish hue of birth had been replaced by an ashen blue. She checked inside the diaper long enough to tell him it was a boy, then picked him up.  
   “Wait, don't disturb him! It took forever to get him to sleep.”  
   She didn't reply. She sat on the bed and began to unfasten her blouse. The man looked away hastily.  
   “It is close enough to my time that I should be able to feed him. He is far too thin,” she lectured.  
   “We tried, but he won't take much from the bottle.” He peeked just in time to see his son latch on to this stranger's breast and suckle happily. Indeed, she seemed to produce milk for him. Tears stung his raw eyes.  
   “Thank you,” he said, his voice gravelly with emotion.  
   She wouldn't look at him. “I don't do this for you, you know. Sheith said this child was his…” she choked up a bit. “His legacy. He must've known he wouldn't make it…” She sniffled. “He told us the same stories, about his sister, and about you. I guess he wanted a voice when he was gone…” Tears fell on his son's face, and on his leather jerkin.  
   “He wanted us to name him Sheith. It was his… his last request.”  
   She nodded at the infant. “Sounds like him. A life for a life, he'd say. None of us knew what he meant. Except…” She finally met his gaze. “Except there are four lives to replace his, not counting what he did for Magda before you.”  
   Gromm straightened away from the doorframe. “Four?”  
   She told him about Mira and Serah, knowing that they'd broken the rules by leaving with  _kuren_  babies inside them. “I, too, carry his child. So you see, it is fitting that I feed its half brother.”  
   His head spun. He looked to Snow, who protected his Lady Elder’s interests. He would not allow her Consort to be alone with another woman.  
   “Four, did you hear?”  
   “What I heard was that two of them are gone with the wind,” the eunuch said tartly.  
   “By the way, how did you know he's a boy? He doesn't have a… you know…”  
   She laughed, for the first time in decades. “That's simple. He's only got two holes.”  
   Gromm looked at Snow, who shrugged.  
   “But… I'm confused. My wife had three, but the next day, she only had two. How am I supposed to know, if they disappear?”  
   “The next day, huh? My, my, we are potent, aren't we? To answer your question, once a _kuren_ is impregnated, the birth canal seals itself. It shrinks so small that, if you don't know what to look for, it seems to vanish.”  
   He blushed, both at her assessment of his virility, and the not so subtle reminder that he knew so little about his own kind.  
   “Listen, can I… You're being kind enough to feed him. Can I bring you some food? I think… that might have been part of the reason Sheith… I don't want anyone else to die, if I can help it.”  
   She looked about to refuse, until he mentioned the infant's namesake.   
   “How many of you are left in that place? He never registered, so…”  
   Her jaw set for several minutes before she admitted that only two remained.  
   “Snow, do we have enough to feed two more?”  
   The eunuch’s mouth pursed, but he grudgingly nodded. “Just enough, yes. We may have to trade with the elves a bit to get by in a month, but for now, we have enough.”  
   “Don't you worry, mister Snow. Murieta will pop any day now. I'm due in a month’s time, and then I'll be out of your hair.”  
   “But what will you do, with a new baby to feed?” Gromm fretted.  
   “I'll get by,” was all she'd say.  
   “Or,” he said slowly, “you could continue to feed Sheith, and earn enough food for you and your child.”  
   She handed him the full baby. “I'll think about it. You'll want to burp him before you put him to sleep. Oh for Kaia’s sake, not like that! Must I show you  _everything?”_  
   He chuckled ruefully. “Unless you wish my mother to teach me. She was the orc half of my parentage.”  
   Elein rolled her eyes, but she showed him how to tuck his shoulder under little Sheith’s chin and roll to an upright position.  
   “After he burps, switch from patting--at least you're gentle enough with that--to rubbing his back. Less likely to puke on you. Or you can put a cloth under him next time. Whatever. Now, I've got to break the news to Murieta.”  
   She promised to return in four hours. He gestured to the basket of food that must have been provided by the ever silent Zezu.  
   She hesitated in the doorway. “Is there a doctor, for when Murieta and I give birth? Neither of us know what to do.”  
   Gromm scratched his head. “I don't rightly know. I've never been sick, and my cousin set my arm when I fell off the house.”  
   Snow reluctantly informed her that the only clinic was run by an elf, who'd already evacuated. Gromm suggested that she ask when she registered.  
   “I'm guessing you haven't, since Sheith didn't. You have a responsibility to set a good example, now. You're carrying the Elder’s niece or nephew.”  
   Her spine straightened. She hadn't thought about it that way. She walked out a lot more confidently than she went in.


	51. Milk Mountains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, all it takes is a nudge.

Elein took Murieta with her to the registrar. They inquired after a healer, herb witch, or midwife. He was reluctant to give out names.      
   Until Murieta’s water broke.   
   “Oh look, it turns out there's a nursery on premises for displaced children. Maybe the nurse can help you ladies.”  
   Elein suppressed a smirk at his hasty about-face and guided Murieta where he directed them. She did okay not bumping into things in the Brood Palace, but she didn't know where anything was in this strange building.  
   Murieta struggled to bring new life into the world, as Sheith had. She'd eaten as much as him, though she'd worked less. She lost a great deal of blood, but the babe was a healthy little girl.  
   Murieta lost more blood when the afterbirth was delivered. She fell into a comatose state, from which the nurse wasn't sure she would recover.  
   “I don't know what we'll do about her,” he said of the child. “All of the wet nurses are at capacity. Are you close enough to your time, good lady?”  
   “I'm already a wet nurse, and I'm carrying the Elder’s niece or nephew. Find someone else. If you have milk thistle and fenugreek, anyone can breastfeed. Even you.”  
   The male nurse scurried away to find someone,  _anyone_  to feed the child. They carried the herbal concoction, but he didn't want the job!  
   On a hunch, Elein nabbed some of their supply while he was gone, and returned to the Elder’s Quarters. It was long past four hours, but she couldn't leave her friend in her time of need.  
   The eunuch on duty was the pale one. He jerked his head at the door imperiously. She hastened inside.  
   The orc was rocking a wailing child, obviously distraught. She took little Sheith from him and settled onto the mattress without a word until he was happily suckling.  
   “I apologize, but Murieta went into labor.”  
   The outburst that he was about to unleash froze in his throat. “Is she… Did she make it?”  
   “We won't know for a while yet. She lost a lot of blood. Hopefully, that food you were so kind to provide will see her through. They need someone to feed the child, though,” she said, hiding a smile at the memory of the panicked Deep Elf.  
   “There is no one else, I take it?”  
   “Oh, I'm sure they'll find someone,” she said breezily, trying not to tip her hand.  
   “Would that I could help,” he mourned.  
   She let a moment pass before casually mentioning the milk thistle and fenugreek. “It even works on some males,” she said to the baby, afraid to see how he would respond.  
   He laughed. That was the  _last_  reaction she would've expected!  
   “Hey Murmur, you want to be a wet nurse?”  
   The eunuch didn't find anything funny about it. “That only works if the Great Collapse is years away. At some point, I must evacuate.”  
   Gromm sobered instantly. “Sorry, ah, I forgot.”  
   Silence reigned for many minutes while the wheels turned in that huge head of his. In the end, Sheith’s perception of him was proven when he asked how it worked.  
   “It's simple, really. You put the powder in a drink, twice a day. After a while, the body takes over.”  
   “And where does one acquire this milk thistle, or fenugreek?”  
   She gloated inside. Now she had him on the hook. She could feed Murieta’s child until she woke, and the dumb brute could take half of little Sheith’s feedings. She didn't want to stop feeding him altogether, but she wasn't going to risk her own child to feed two infants while carrying another.  
   She pulled the powder from her pocket and set it on the table. “I wasn't sure I would be able to provide enough for little Sheith, so I procured some. Fortunately, I seem to be producing enough for one infant, so it's yours if you'd like.”  
   She wasn't an Oracle, but she was quite an accomplished courtesan. She was able to look him in the face and baldly lie.  
   Gromm wasn't looking for deception. He was looking for a way to save as many lives as he could. He poured a mug of tea. He stared at the jar for a moment before asking how much he needed.  
   “Honestly, I don't know. I'd start small, though.”  
   Apparently, he thought small meant a palmful. To be precise,  _his_  palm. She winced, as did Snow, but he was such a large man, who knew? It might take that much to move the hills atop his chest.  
   He drank the gritty brew without a grimace, and sat at the small table while she continued feeding his child. It didn't take long, however, before he began shifting uncomfortably.  
   “Say, ah, do you think I could try now?”  
   She grinned. “Sure! I'll show you how to manage without pain.” She gently broke the suction, showing the men what she did. Sheith whimpered unhappily. Gromm perched gingerly on the bed as far as he politely could, aware of propriety.  
   Elein handed the unhappy infant to his father and showed him what to look for. When he latched on improperly, she flipped his lip into the correct, painless position.  
   “There, that's what you want to see, top and bottom. Now, if I'm late again, and after I give birth, he won't go hungry. Doesn't that make you feel good, to be able to do this for your son?”  
   Gromm didn't know what to feel, or where to look. His face was priceless. Snow burst into thoroughly undignified laughter.  
   “Well, since you've got this in hand, I'm going to go rescue Murieta’s baby.”  
   She made it out of the Elder’s Quarters before she dissolved into giggles. When she could speak, she whispered to Murmur what was going on within. His face twitched, but he managed not to snicker. If this was to be a regular thing, he would make sure he was indoors for the next feeding! She airily informed him that it would be in approximately four hours.


	52. Baby Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ealishe recovers her sanity, a little at a time.

Ealishe slept through it all. Meron kept her unconscious as long as he dared. She woke long enough to eat, use the facilities, and after a while, began requesting to be knocked out. She didn't want to face the real world, where her brother was dead, with a baby she never wanted in his place. They had to send her brother to the Great Tantalus before Meron came the second day, to keep Lili from seeing him. Snow refused to look after Lili, except in an emergency.  
   Zezu prepared Sheith’s body Himself. He found the familiar ring in one of his pockets and frowned. He hadn't seen it in years, yet this man had it in his possession? He didn't know how, and He could no longer ask, so He tucked it away for a time when His Lady Elder would need it.  
   Meron accommodated her wishes for three days. On the fourth, he refused.  
   “I am your physician, and as such, I declare it unsafe. It is time to rejoin the waking world, difficult as it may seem.   
   “There is a woman who knew your brother, and she has been asking for you regularly. He spoke to her of you and your husband, and it is vital to her that she relay those stories.”  
   Ealishe turned her head away. “I do not wish to have visitors.”  
   Meron eyed the woman in the doorway. “It would seem that she will not heed your wishes.”  
   Baleful red eyes accosted the pregnant woman. Elein merely took the monk’s place by her bed.  
   “He knew. You can blame whoever you want for it, but he accepted his fate. He hated what Magda made us do. We all did. No, you'll listen to this, because it's what he wanted.”  
   Ealishe glared at the hand on her shoulder, but it remained.  
   “You were too young to remember him, I bet. Well, I was there the day he arrived. I've known him far longer than you have, so let me tell you about your brother.”  
   The Elder reluctantly turned over to face the stubborn green  _kuren._  She didn't like that this stranger was right. She  _did_  know her brother better. She could tell her what he was like.  
   “Was he strong?” she asked, sounding very young. Elein was hard-put to keep her from reaching her iron-clad heart.  
   “Very strong. And stubborn. I kept telling him to come here. He didn't have to scrape by with the rest of us.”  
   “He was too proud,” Ealishe thought.  
   “Wrong. He was a proud man, but it was shame that kept him away. Mira said that the first time you showed up at the door, he was petrified. He wept and shivered like a babe. He couldn't let you see what he'd become.  
   “And before you go blaming your husband for your brother's death, think on this: If he'd never gone to that wretched place, Sheith would have been taken with Magda and the other brood mares. You'd never know where he'd gone.”  
   She paused to let her words sink in. Then she told her all the tales that she'd memorized by now; of herself as a precocious child, and her husband as a hesitant yet noble virgin. She told her of the times he'd protected another girl by taking the blame, how he still considered himself a straight male. She was perilously close to tears when she told the Lady Elder of Ordo and his misdeeds, and why her husband's restraint was so impactful.  
   “He could have been stronger than that… beast, but your brother never knew it. He didn't leave so much as a scratch or bruise.”  
   The Elder blushed. She wouldn't divulge her own excesses in the bedroom, or the number of times she had to plaster his back, hips, buttocks, or arms.  
   Elein didn't ask. She could guess, for she'd left her fair share of “lovemarks”. The sex act never included love, for her. Not even with Sheith. At least that's what she told herself.

   Meron stood for awhile, watching how careful Lili was with her half brother. Though she tugged on adults mercilessly, she patted his tiny cheek with her fingertips.  
   “Brother,” she cooed.  
   It made him nervous whenever she called him that. He knew that the day would come when they must be separated. It wrenched his gut, but he couldn't go with them to their homeland. It wasn't that he would die; he was one of the rare few who possessed the magic necessary for survival in extreme conditions.  
   The thing was, he didn't  _want_  to live in extreme conditions. He enjoyed the finer things in life. It was bad enough living where food was rarely hot. The inn had closed early on, being outside the Gate. The Sky Mall was deserted.   
   Any deliveries of food or other staples were left just inside the Cavern. No one was brave enough to venture into a cave that was doomed to collapse any day now. Guardians had to retrieve the items before they spoiled, or rodents found them.  
    _I'll be happy when I can return to the outside world,_  he thought.  
   He did find it fascinating when Gromm fed little Sheith. He was less than enthusiastic about trying it, himself.  
   “It's a wonderful bonding experience,” the half-orc teased.  
   “I'm sure it is. I'll pass.”  
   Gromm just laughed.

   He was feeding Sheith again when his wife came looking for him. She froze in the doorway, not believing her eyes. Elein left that little nugget out. She had to leave to feed Murieta’s babe, since she still hadn't woken up.  
   He seemed to have dozed off with a pillow propped under his arm. If he were wearing a shirt, she might not have known what he was doing, but he'd given up wearing shirts. His nipples were tender, and the leather was too rough.  
   She was torn between repulsion and fascination. She crept closer, Zezu at her heels. He knew what Gromm did, of course, but this was the first time He'd seen it. He'd remained by His Lady Elder’s side the past three days. He had to do an about face and muffle a laugh in His sleeve.   
   Murmur was in the hallway, so he heard the sound.  _Well, there_   _goes that idea,_  he thought.  _The no tongue theory still holds water, though. Look how he covers his mouth._  
   Ealishe tiptoed forward until she could see the tiny mouth suckling the massive pectoral protrusion. She wouldn't call it a breast, but it was definitely more rounded.  
   A tingle shot from her untried breasts to her loins. She didn't understand what one had to do with the other, in this context. She could see why the sight of breastfeeding would make her own bosom swell in response, but she was past the safe point for intercourse.  
   Curiosity made her hand reach toward her husband's engorged chest. The tiniest pinch of the purplish nipple sent milk squirting out. She leapt back and wiped her hand on her skirt.  
   Gromm grunted and cracked an eyelid.  
   “Does he need to switch sides?” he asked groggily.  
   “I… I don't know, maybe..?”  
   Upon hearing his wife’s voice, he roused fully. “You're awake. How do you feel?” He seemed oblivious to the absurdity of the situation, but newborns tended to have that effect on their parents.  
   “I ah… I'm sorry, I can't get past what I'm seeing.”  
   He followed her eyes, and a slow blush crept up his cheeks. “Elein was kind enough to feed him at first, but then her friend was unable to feed her baby, and… She had this powder that worked on everyone, and little Sheith was hungry, so…”  
   “Don't call him that!” she hissed.  
   He sighed. “I would never deny a man's dying wish, and neither should you. We can but try to see that he has the life we would've wished for his… erm… uncle..? Father..? I'm sorry, I don't know what to call his namesake.” His eyes dropped to the infant Sheith, saw that he was finished. He cupped the tiny boy in one palm and tucked him over his granite shoulder.  
   The massive half-orc burped the fragile new life with two meaty fingers as gently as any new mother. She was struck by the incongruity of it, but he seemed oblivious.  
   “Did Elein talk to you? She was rather keen on it.” He met her eyes, though it required every ounce of control he possessed not to drop his gaze.  
   “She did. I'm not sure it changes much.”  
   He withheld a sigh. “If you're still angry with me, I understand. I am having difficulty forgiving myself.”  
   She perched on the bed, as far from him as she could be. “Elein said that if you hadn't… If I hadn't sent you there, Sheith might have been taken away with Magda. She also said that he worked himself too hard, ate too little.”  
   “Sounds like it runs in the family,” Zezu chided from His corner. She didn't bother to comment, lost in her own misery.  
   She rammed her fists against the mattress. “If he'd just  _come_  to me, I could've  _saved_  him! If my father had looked harder, after that wretched old bird kidnapped him..!” She stopped, finally seeing where the blame lay.  
    _“Krakk!_  He'd best hope that I never see his fecking arse again, because if I do..” Her blazing scarlet eyes finished the sentence adequately.  
   If it hadn't, the rather loud burp from her nephew… son..? would have emphasized it for her. Despite herself, she chuckled.  
   “You tell him, little Sheith.”  
   Her eyes widened when she realized what she'd called him, but neither male commented on it.  
   Timidly, she inched closer. Gromm was perfectly still, as usual. It was the same tactic one would use with a stray cat: let them come to you. He rubbed the skinny back with a single finger, looking at his son instead of his wife.  
   “Do you think… Could I maybe hold him?”  
   Only then did he look up. “Aye, you'll need to know how, soon enough.” His other palm covered her distended belly possessively. She blushed at the reminder that she carried his offspring.  
    _That'd be the first case of hereditary pregnancy,_  she thought irreverently.  _First him, then me._  
   Gromm patted the narrow bed next to him. She shook her head. “I'll never fit now. Maybe we should… I mean, my bed is bigger…”  
   He rose in one smooth movement, held out a hand. The little blue baby perched on his collarbone, held up by one mighty paw. She placed her hand in his other paw, and they walked into her room together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never fail to giggle at "hereditary pregnancy". I also never fail to tear up and laugh at this story, alternately.


	53. Mother Love and Cousin Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family relations are explored, and the limits of the kuren.

Ealishe sat rigidly against Kaia’s hull, a pillow at her back, and another in her lap. She was afraid of dropping her brother's son. Her husband sat next to her before extending his paw.  
   There, curled around his thumb, was his son.  
   “Is he supposed to be that small?” she whispered.  
   “I don't know,” he whispered back. “Perhaps he only looks small because his father's hands are so big. Here, let's see.”  
   He eased the frail arms from around his thumb and tilted the giant paw slightly toward her. She inched her much smaller fingers under the newborn, until he lay within her shaking hands. He did indeed look a bit bigger in her hands, not quite as embryonic. The paw guided her hands to her shoulder, with instructions on just how to duck under the delicate chin.  
   She shivered with delight when his little face buried in her neck. His fist found the opening of her shirt, opened and closed within the soft fabric. She cooed at the baby, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Their eyes met over the green-clad lad, and she saw that her husband's eyes were also damp.  
   She had no words for the feelings this elfin creature evoked, but she didn't need any. Not with Gromm, who spoke so few.   
   So they sat, the child the thread that bound them together. Gromm adored his wife, but could not honestly say that he loved her. Ealishe enjoyed her husband's constant, solid presence, but she would never admit to any deeper emotion. This infant, however, they could love unconditionally.  
   The child they'd created together shifted, and she thought her heart would surely burst.   
   The paw that had cradled newly born life now cupped the life that was still growing. He leaned forward and set his lips ever so gently on her roiling belly. Her hand dropped to his hair of its own volition.  
   They fell asleep that way. Concerned for the babe, Zezu reluctantly picked up the tiny thing and brought it to its cradle. He ignored the looks aimed His way, choosing to point first to Snow, then the cradle. The pale eunuch rolled his eyes.  
   “Why can't Murmur do it?”  
   Zezu jerked His head toward the front door. Snow gladly switched places with Murmur, who was only too happy to sit down and wait. He knew that his job was to alert someone when the wee one woke. It was an easy task, particularly if you'd been standing half the day.  
   The rarely-seen cook was assigned the job of listening for one of Zezu’s knocks. He could pass the rhythm of the knock on to Murmur, who could interpret the message.  
   “It's so much easier when there's a nanny,” he said to the infant. “Poor Cookie doesn't usually come upstairs. It's an awful lot of trouble to go to for such a small person. You're lucky you're so cute,” he said in his characteristic dulcet tones.

   Captain Lyesha waved the caravan away, sad to see some of her best recruits leaving. She told them that their job now was to protect the travelers, and they all took it to heart.  
   She walked back to the Barracks, disheartened at the vast emptiness that Kaia had become. The efforts to shore up Her hull went well, despite fewer workers. The gnome could move enough earth to replace three men, but it took a toll on him. He never admitted it, but his cousin stayed closer every day.  
   Most of the Council were gone, now. People were notified of the caravans’ arrival and departure dates via a board nailed to the wall of the Council Chambers.  
   She hadn't seen Krakk since the attempt on the Elder’s life, if that's what it was. He could be squatting in one of the empty houses, or he could be long gone. None of her people reported his exit, however, and he was difficult to disguise. She could've had every empty house searched, but her ranks were thinning by the week. She peered into the vacant shells she passed, but he was a crafty old bird.  
   She was glad that the Elder’s advanced pregnancy, and the wings that now brushed her hips, kept her from roaming the city in disguise. She'd never been keen on the idea. She supposed she ought to thank the bishop for blowing her cover, but she preferred to thank the Consort for getting her with child.  
   Being the masculine variant of the female gender, Lyesha was one of the rare few who could not conceive. She'd debated going to the Brood Palace when she was younger, but she never found the right person to settle down with. She wasn't even sure what gender she had a preference for. Knowing that you were related in some way to just about every  _kuren_  in the Cavern tended to put a damper on things.  
    _That reminds me, I need to make sure Raslir has eaten today. With fewer people, the gardens are flourishing, at least._  
   She found him where he'd been since the announcement: copying the family tree from Her shell, even though it was already in the archives. What she didn't expect to find was her frail cousin hovering near the top of the tree.  
   “Hsst! Someone will see you!” she whispered urgently.  
   His sharp auditory canal caught the hiss. He folded his great rubbery wings toward his body, losing altitude, until he alit next to his cousin.  
   “I was watching,” he said defensively. The wings tucked up inside his shirt, to become the hunched back he was known for.  
   “If someone sees you…” she warned, following him into the house.  
   He waffled a hand at her dismissively. “Bah! They haven't caught me in eight hundred years. Why would they catch me now?”  
   “You don't know that someone won't report you, and we don't have a replacement this generation! You  _know_  how rare twins are!”  
   “Won't need one, remember? Kaia won't be with us much longer. I know, it's sad, but here's my point: We live to be about a thousand years old. I'm eight hundred and three. The Elder is eighteen. That leaves two hundred eighty two years that the Great Collapse could occur, yeah? I can stay alive that long, I think, but I don't think it'll take the full two hundred eighty two years. See? I don't  _need_  a replacement!”  
   She thrust a plate of food at him. “You won't make it another month if you don't eat, though. We're depending on you, now more than ever.”  
   “Yeah, yeah, I know. Nobody else can reach the top.”  
   She gripped his bony shoulder. “Nobody else knows where anything is in here, alphabetical or not. You've got a system, and you're the only one who knows it! So stay healthy, huh?”  
   He dutifully bit into the cold food, scoffed, and waved a hand over it. When it was piping hot, he ate the whole plateful. He would have preferred to go back to work instead, but his insufferable cousin wouldn't leave until he ate.  
   When he finished the food, she left him to his work.


	54. Birth Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's hope this one goes better, eh?

Ealishe stirred against her husband's side, unsure what she was feeling. At first, she thought it was the baby moving more forcefully than usual. Her belly tightened all the way across, but it didn't hurt any more than when the baby stretched its little legs.  
   _Speaking of babies, where was little Sheith?_  
   As soon as she sat up, Zezu tapped the door. Not long after, a sleepy Murmur brought the infant to her. She looked down at the grumpy child, unsure what to do.  
   Fortunately, the fussing woke her husband. He took the babe and put it to his massive pectoral protrusion. Little Sheith latched on eagerly. Gromm winced and readjusted one of his lips, then relaxed against the pillows. He drifted back to sleep.  
   She tried to do the same, but she just couldn't get comfortable. She tried lying every which way, but nothing alleviated the discomfort in her back. She didn't want to disturb the boys, so her adjustments were gradual.  
   Zezu had observed many Elders, of many ages and genders. He had a fair guess what her problem was, but for their sake, He hoped He was wrong.  
    _Just stay in there a little longer_ , He thought at the unborn child.  
   Like mother like child, it was stubborn. Throughout the night, she tossed and turned. He had the cradle brought into her room, so Murmur could get some sleep. Little Sheith was next to his food source, so they didn't need anyone to alert Gromm, who barely had to rouse to reach the babe. He had a sneaking suspicion that they would need everyone well-rested in the morning.  
   He did not sleep, so He was able to time how frequently the Elder had to change positions. At first, they were irregular intervals, but as the night wore on, they became more steady. He wondered why she did not alert Him to her plight.  
   When the morning sun brightened the Crystals, which in turn charged the phosphorescent fungi along the ceiling, He brought her a cup of  _jaja._  
   “Here, drink. You've been awake all night. You must rest as much as you can, My Lady,” He said in His eerie, echoing voice.   
   “I'm sorry if I kept You awake,” she whispered. “I did try, but my back has been acting up.”  
   A low rumble of laughter bounced around the room. “I do not sleep, My Lady.”  
   “Oh. Of course you don't.”  
   He chuckled again. “I do not rest, but you should. You have a big day ahead of you.”  
   “Oh? Is there another caravan coming?”  
   He shook His dark head. “It appears that your babe wishes to meet its brother a bit sooner than we'd like.”  
   She sat straighter, then slumped back almost as quickly. She wanted to deny his words, but a low cramp squeezed the words from her. It seemed all her body needed, to get started in earnest, was verticality.  
   Her eyes became two large discs in her face. “Is there a way to stop it?” she squeaked.  
   The shrill sound woke her husband. He stirred and put a heavy arm across her belly. “Go back to sleep, love,” he grumbled.  
   She stiffened. He'd never called her his love while he was awake, except when they were in disguise.  
   “I'd love to, but your other child has decided that it is his birthday.”  
   Gromm sat up as fast as she was wont to, his paw moving to the center of her belly. He remembered what happened to her brother, and an early delivery made him fearful for both his wife and child.  
   “How do you feel? Do you need anything? What can I do?”  
   She was tired and irritable, but his concern was a balm to her frazzled nerves.  
   “It is enough that you are here. You've always been my rock, you know. Anything else I need, Murmur and Zezu can provide.”  
   She tensed and held her breath. The mound beneath his paw tightened to frightening hardness. He stroked it, not knowing if he helped, but unsure what else to do.  
   Zezu told her that she should breathe through the pain. “I've seen this often enough to know that holding your breath like that is unwise. It makes the pain worse.”  
   Gromm realized over the next few hours that she needed him to remind her to breathe. She got caught up in the pain, and she forgot. She also needed him to soothe her into restfulness between contractions. She was far too tense with worry. He was worried too, but his training took over.  
   The serenity of her Kindred was her port in the storm. She curled around him during contractions, leaned on him between. He smoothed a paw over her belly, or her back, tucked her braids out of the way when they clung to her damp neck.  
   Murmur checked on her throughout the day, but he warned her that firstborns are notoriously long in coming.  
   Elein took half of little Sheith’s feedings. She would have taken over completely, but Murieta’s babe needed her. Plus, she said if Gromm stopped for an entire day, he would be very uncomfortable.  
   Ealishe would have resented the twenty minutes he spent feeding Sheith, but he did not leave her side to do it. Murmur brought him to his father. Somehow, seeing the end result of her suffering eased some of her stress. It was an evolutionary trick that she was far too tired to analyze, or even recognize.  
   Murmur asked her at one point if she wanted her mother present, but she vehemently vetoed the idea. He quietly sent a message to the woman anyway. The note stated that her grandchild was on the way, and they would send for her perhaps the next day. This sort of behavior was what lost him his last job, but he hadn't learned his lesson at all.  
   Fortunately for him, Midrii did not pass the message on until the next morning, when their world turned upside down.  
   He did send for the monk, at Zezu’s request. The instructions were for Meron to wait in one of the spare bedrooms until after the baby was born. Being a little under a month early, no one knew if it would survive.  
   “Actually, I'm glad it's early,” he told the effeminate eunuch. “Being one quarter orc, it may be a large child. Less time in the womb means it may be easier for the Lady Elder to pass through the birth canal. I've seen many women fail to deliver large babies, including… Well, he had malnutrition, perhaps other health concerns…” he trailed off awkwardly, heartily glad that the Elder herself hadn't heard his ill-advised words.  
   Murmur ducked across the hall to whisper the pertinent facts to the silent eunuch, who nodded once.  _A blessing in disguise,_ He thought.  _I hadn't taken his lineage into consideration._  But He wouldn't, would He? Those were mortal concerns.  
   He was prepared to use His psionic gifts again, if need be, to help His mistress.  _Oban’dal_  needed all the fresh blood it could get, and orc genes would make His children stronger down the line. Gromm’s storybook was right about  _Oban’dal_  dying. For all He knew, there would be no one to greet them when they arrived. His messenger never did return to Him.  
    _Yes, I will do what I must, to preserve those who are left,_ He thought resolutely.


	55. Relief and Injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gromm was right to worry.

Ealishe felt great relief when her bag of waters broke. Murmur said that was the signal that the end was near. She kissed her husband's neck while he held her. The sheets were changed, as was her nightdress. She clung to his strength when, halfway through the wardrobe change, her belly rose in a distorted peak.  
   “Is it supposed to do that?” he asked the eunuch, trying not to show his fear.  
   “Silly orc, that's what it's been doing this whole time.”  
   What little tension had gathered between his shoulders ebbed. He calmly tugged the soft gown over her stomach, stopping at her hips because Murmur told him not to bother.  
   As promised, things moved swiftly after that. Gromm gently moved her to the foot of the bed, sat behind her, and held her upright while she pushed. She sagged against his unflagging strength in between. When she could no longer grip her knees, he held them for her. This child was stubborn, and big-headed.  
   Zezu was about to intervene when its head emerged on its own. The miniscule horns that resembled neither parent nicked her on the way out, though no one noticed.   
   As before, the broad shoulders got stuck, but Murmur handled that. The rest of the baby easily slipped free. He set the tiny thing on her stomach while he tended the wounds as best he could before the afterbirth was delivered. Tearing was not uncommon, he knew.  
   He calmly snipped the umbilical cord and cleared the infant's mouth. Nothing escaped the deep purple, almost black lips.  
   “Fetch the monk,” he said, not allowing his alarm to show. He pressed on the delicate chest with two fingers, one, two, three, pause. One, two, three, pause.  
   Meron handed Lili to Gromm, who refused to leave his wife's side.  
   “Baby!” she squealed.  
   None of the adults spoke, all eyes on the motionless infant.  
   “No, don't stop that. Keep going,” he ordered firmly. While Murmur kept the blood flowing, Meron Looked inside. What he saw broke his heart. The poor thing had a hole in its fragile heart, and the lungs were deflated. It would take a different set of skills to set them straight. He could tell that the child was born too soon. This would not be solved by altering the flow of its  _chi._  
   He would have to do a sort of external surgery to seal the hole in the heart. He might have to manually inflate the lungs, but he hoped that closing the hole would do the trick.  
   Meron didn't like doing the procedure while the parents watched, but every second was vital. He tugged on the sides of the microscopic aperture. He persuaded the cells to knit together, sweat popping up on his brow. Fortunately, the newborn was still developing. He couldn't have done the same for an adult, whose cells were harder to persuade.  
   Once the muscle held firm, he sent a pulse of his own  _chi_  into the tiny body. The shock sent the heart stuttering to life. He waited to see if it would be enough to stimulate spontaneous breathing.  
   Murmur stopped compressions when a lusty cry filled their ears. Meron Watched for a bit longer, to be sure that nothing else was awry. He was relieved to see that the child was as sound as its brother.  
   He came back to himself with a sigh. When he could see with his physical eyes, he told them what happened.  
   “I do not believe it to be hereditary. It was simply too soon. The child should be fit and fine--”  
   He staggered against the bed. The infant did not replenish his energies as its parents did, and it had taken great effort to Heal it. Someone shoved food into his hand, but he didn't see who. A chair was roughly thrust against his knees, which he gratefully dropped into. He sometimes forgot that proper Healing used his personal energies.  
   “Daddy okay?” Lili asked.  
   “Yes, munchkin, just tired.” He ate whatever he'd been handed, too empty to care that it was cold.  
   When he was more or less restored, he took his daughter from Gromm. He was heartily glad to see the Elder nursing the healthy, blue violet babe. The lips were still purple, but that seemed to be their natural color.  
   He left the room when the soft-spoken eunuch delivered the afterbirth. He took Lili with him, despite her protests. He stayed nearby, just in case. He remembered the state she'd been in the past few days. In fact, he blamed himself for the premature birth of her child. If he hadn't agreed to knock her out for three days straight, she might have made it to term.  
   In her room, Murmur rocked his palms against the flaccid scales of his mistress’ stomach. She cried out, but that was normal. This part was never pleasant. The breastfeeding loosened things, so it went fairly smoothly. He didn't understand why there was so much bleeding. He pressed an herbal compress to the twin tears, thinking it to be the source of the problem. It wasn't.  
   “You might want to get the monk back in here. It's nothing to worry about, I just need a hand.”  
   Meron asked Gromm to take the children to the other room. He flatly refused.  
   “You heard him, it's nothing to worry about. Go on, I'm fine.”  
   Ealishe was insistent. “I don't want them to see me until I've had a bath. Besides, somebody else needs a bath. Think you can handle it?” Her onyx eyes sparked a challenge, which reassured him that she was as healthy as she said. She was tired, but her spirit was strong.  
   He kissed her brow ridge, lingering long enough to convey support and affection.  
   When he was gone, a baby in each paw and Lili trotting reluctantly behind, she sagged against the pillows. Her face lost color rapidly.  
   Meron grounded himself and all but leapt into her body with Othersight. There he saw the long slices down her birth canal. They lined up with the ones on the outside, twisting as the tiny body would have on its way out.  
   He soothed the inflamed flesh, coaxing it to knit together. It resisted, but he had desperation on his side. He also, had he noticed, had an Elder Creature helping. He hadn't grounded himself completely separate from Kaia. Slowly, the cuts closed. Thankfully, they were clean slits.  
   Unfortunately, she'd lost a significant amount of blood.

   Gromm bathed his newest child, learning that it was a girl. She was the same size as her four day old brother, which was a testament to both her prematurity and his  _dami’s_  malnutrition.  
   He frowned when he saw the tiny globs on the oddly-angled horns. They were red, unlike the rest of her blue violet body.


	56. Kaia Makes a Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes gloriously awry.

Zezu could see how the human was struggling. This healing was not going as smoothly as the others he'd performed on the Elder. He crossed the hall in one long stride and beckoned Gromm to come to his wife's side.  
   The half-orc followed, carrying Lili out of habit more than thought. He snapped at Murmur to watch the newborns. What he saw was like a punch in the gut. Meron glowed, which was unusual, but his wife did not seem to be breathing.  
   He rushed to her side, Zezu to Meron’s, but neither seemed to know what to do. Then the glow around the monk pulsed once, and a vaguely man-shaped light shot toward her. His body stilled, barely seeming to breathe.  
   The Elder arched off the bed and froze that way for many tense moments. Her eyes did not open, but when she sagged against the pillows, a gasp inflated her lungs.  
   The light inside her flared, and she arched again. Again, she took a single breath. Three more times the light flared before she began breathing normally.  
   The monk, however, did not rouse as he had before. His color waned, and he began to slide toward the floor. Zezu held him upright with a firm hand on his shoulder, but beyond that, He was powerless.  
   Lili whimpered and lunged for her father. She sprawled across the unconscious Elder, who did not wake. She crawled over the limp legs and patted her father's knee, sniffling and crying for her Papa.  
   The Elder spasmed once, and the man-shaped glow returned to Meron’s body. His color brightened, and he inhaled a large breath.  
   “Lili,” he said weakly.  
   Then the diffuse glow began to brighten again. His eyes widened with alarm. He shoved his daughter away before his whole body stiffened. The light grew and grew, until it was too bright to look upon.  
   Zezu was the only one who saw what happened next. The monk gathered the extra energy that threatened to tear him to shreds, and shoved it  _down._  
   Right into Kaia’s brain.  
   The ancient beast roused from torpor, causing the entire Cavern to shake. She’d received the energy She'd given the monk, multiplied a thousandfold. She was revitalized, and She decided to do something.  
   Zezu grabbed the nearest Crystal and yelled “No! You mustn't!”  
   A whale-like call shook the foundation of every house.  
   “We don't know that the Gate will hold!”  
   Another bellow was His reply.  
   He touched a larger Crystal and hollered “Anybody who isn't going with the  _kuren,_  get out  _now!_  Kaia is leaving! Repeat, Kaia is  _leaving!_  Guards, seal the Gate after them, and make it as watertight as you can!”  
   Panic ensued. People rushed the Gate, or rushed home to make their houses watertight. The crowd rushing out met the crowd rushing in, and only the quick thinking of the Guardians saved lives. They each stood atop a tantiro, directing the flow of traffic.  
   Monk Meron stirred from his slump over Ealishe’s bed. “What… what happened? Why is the ground moving? Or am I still--”  
   “You threw an explosion of energy into the brain of a very big, very  _protective_  mother. What did you  _think_  would happen? She's taking us home.”  
   He shot upright. “No! You said it was an extreme environment. I have to go before--”  
   “It's too late for that. You'll never make it. There is an island before we reach our home. Anyone who doesn't get out that wanted to, there is an island chain where we can drop you off.” The last was said with the help of Kaia’s Crystal intercom.  
   The two human eunuchs and cook stopped their headlong flight and returned to their posts, abashed at their lapse in discipline. They were just as glad that the iron-fisted Head Eunuch hadn't seen their brief abandonment. None of them knew who issued the orders, however. The strange echo could have been an effect of the young monk, for all they knew.  
   The panic outside eased, but people were still streaming out the Gate when Kaia managed to free Her legs from the floor. She stood slowly, partly to give them time, and partly because She hadn't moved in three thousand years. The only reason She was able to find Her feet in the hard-packed dirt at all was because of the boards and tunnels beneath Her belly.  
   Deep Dwarves, gnomes, and myriad other volunteers fled the rapidly collapsing tunnels, to the accompaniment of groaning timbers, the screams of their companions, and the shrieking of horrible creatures.  
   Captain Lyesha saw the ground fall away and heaved her weight against the wheel on her side. The Guardian on the other side was quick to follow. People banged on the Gate, but she bellowed that they could damned well wait until they got to the islands.  
   “I'm sure there will be boats to transport you all to the mainland,” she yelled. Gradually, the crowd thinned, though they still grumbled.  
   The Guardians packed the crack at the bottom of the Gate with anything they could find. Some even drew their shirts from their backs to use as batting.  
   Their whole world tilted. Those who weren't indoors were thrown against buildings, sleds, each other--whatever was nearby. Captain Lyesha clung to the wheel for stability, since it was bolted to Her shell. The other Guardian was wise enough to do the same. Those who were inside their houses were flung about, but there was less room to fall when Kaia splashed into the ocean.  
   Before that could happen, She had to shake three millennia of dirt, trees, and rocks off of Her shell. Her children clung to nearby objects, or dodged the ones that fell from Her shell, depending on whether they'd made it through the Gate or not. The ones outside fled to the dubious safety of the original Deep Dwarven tunnels, or out the natural arch that had been the Cavern entrance.  
   One of the few people who stood firm in the midst of the chaos was Minks Spannerwocket. He held the loose soil in an arch over the work crew until they got to the safety of his cousin's tunnels.  
   “Go, go, go!” he squeaked. “I can hold the earth, but I can't stop that thing from stepping on ya!”  
   The creatures of the darkness could not flee in time to avoid the bright sunlight that poured down around Her gargantuan feet. Nor could they avoid the flames that burst from the tiny gnome’s other hand. They were either buried alive, which some could survive, or burned to embers where they crouched in whatever meager, rapidly dwindling shadows they'd found. Between the Great Tantalus and the tiny gnome, the majority of the residents lived. Some would be forever changed, but they would live.  
   When Kaia took the scant few tottering steps necessary to reach the ocean, all of the sediment that had held Her up, mixed with trees, smaller plants, and rocks, half filled the place that was once Tantalus Cavern. Some of it was dragged into the water with Her.   
   The little green man released his hold on the earth around him with an outward shove, to keep the tunnel opening clear. Then he dropped into his cousin's dark, burly arms.  
   “Ya did good, Minks. We got our home back.”  
    It was once again a valley between two mountains, with a sheer drop to the sea on either side. The only way to the ocean used to be through Her shell, but now, the waterway was once again open.  
   The natural arch that used to be part of Her sanctuary now soared hundreds of feet above the loose, littered soil of the valley floor. The Deep Dwarf home caves were down to their original number, having lost every home they'd carved beneath Her shell. It would take months, if not years, to rebuild their homes, but at least they didn't have a colossal carcass to deal with.  
   The merfolk followed Kaia, since She no longer protected them from poachers. One group pushed an empty tanto shell they'd intended to deliver, unsure what to do with it now.  
   Once She evened out atop the waves, people trickled out of their homes, most of which had shifted. Some of the gardens were damaged by this movement, and by other debris. When the water beneath the Gate was spotted by those nearest, they flocked to find things to shore it up.  
   One of the Gizzyrix clan dumped a bucket full of sandy stuff along the edge, and it fluffed up wonderfully.  
   “It's a good thing that stuff is only halfway across. I don't know how we're going to open the Gate when we get there,” Captain Lyesha said. “I just hope that magic sand of yours can compensate for the side that's not so thoroughly blocked.”  
   “If I had more time, I could make another batch,” she chirped, “but as ye say, we've got to open the gate again. I'm not sure the solvent will actually work, so we might have to chisel it away.”  
   “There's a solvent? Well, good lady, you'd best get to testing it, hadn't you?”  
   “Sir, yes sir!” The little minx snapped a salute and darted away.


	57. Kaia Makes a Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...And everything goes wonderfully awry.

Zezu could see how the human was struggling. This healing was not going as smoothly as the others he'd performed on the Elder. He crossed the hall in one long stride and beckoned Gromm to come to his wife's side.  
   The half-orc followed, carrying Lili out of habit more than thought. He snapped at Murmur to watch the newborns. What he saw was like a punch in the gut. Meron glowed, which was unusual, but his wife did not seem to be breathing.  
   He rushed to her side, Zezu to Meron's, but neither seemed to know what to do. Then the glow around the monk pulsed once, and a vaguely man-shaped light shot toward her. His body stilled, barely seeming to breathe.  
   The Elder arched off the bed and froze that way for many tense moments. Her eyes did not open, but when she sagged against the pillows, a gasp inflated her lungs.  
   The light inside her flared, and she arched again. Again, she took a single breath. Three more times the light flared before she began breathing normally.  
   The monk, however, did not rouse as he had before. His color waned, and he began to slide toward the floor. Zezu held him upright with a firm hand on his shoulder, but beyond that, He was powerless.  
   Lili whimpered and lunged for her father. She sprawled across the unconscious Elder, who did not wake. She crawled over the limp legs and patted her father's knee, sniffling and crying for her Papa.  
   The Elder spasmed once, and the man-shaped glow returned to Meron's body. His color brightened, and he inhaled a large breath.  
   "Lili," he said weakly.  
   Then the diffuse glow began to brighten again. His eyes widened with alarm. He shoved his daughter away before his whole body stiffened. The light grew and grew, until it was too bright to look upon.  
   Zezu was the only one who saw what happened next. The monk gathered the extra energy that threatened to tear him to shreds, and shoved it  _down._  
   Right into Kaia's brain.  
   The ancient beast roused from torpor, causing the entire Cavern to shake. She'd received the energy She'd given the monk, multiplied a thousandfold. She was revitalized, and She decided to do something.  
   Zezu grabbed the nearest Crystal and yelled "No! You mustn't!"  
   A whale-like call shook the foundation of every house.  
   "We don't know that the Gate will hold!"  
   Another bellow was His reply.  
   He touched a larger Crystal and hollered "Anybody who isn't going with the  _kuren,_  get out  _now!_  Kaia is leaving! Repeat, Kaia is  _leaving!_  Guards, seal the Gate after them, and make it as watertight as you can!"  
   Panic ensued. People rushed the Gate, or rushed home to make their houses watertight. The crowd rushing out met the crowd rushing in, and only the quick thinking of the Guardians saved lives. They each stood atop a tantiro, directing the flow of traffic.  
   Monk Meron stirred from his slump over Ealishe's bed. "What... what happened? Why is the ground moving? Or am I still--"  
   "You threw an explosion of energy into the brain of a very big, very  _protective_  mother. What did you  _think_  would happen? She's taking us home."  
   He shot upright. "No! You said it was an extreme environment. I have to go before--"  
   "It's too late for that. You'll never make it. There is an island before we reach our home. Anyone who doesn't get out that wanted to, there is an island chain where we can drop you off." The last was said with the help of Kaia's Crystal intercom.  
   The two human eunuchs and cook stopped their headlong flight and returned to their posts, abashed at their lapse in discipline. They were just as glad that the iron-fisted Head Eunuch hadn't seen their brief abandonment. None of them knew who issued the orders, however. The strange echo could have been an effect of the young monk, for all they knew.  
   The panic outside eased, but people were still streaming out the Gate when Kaia managed to free Her legs from the floor. She stood slowly, partly to give them time, and partly because She hadn't moved in three thousand years. The only reason She was able to find Her feet in the hard-packed dirt at all was because of the boards and tunnels beneath Her belly.  
   Deep Dwarves, gnomes, and myriad other volunteers fled the rapidly collapsing tunnels, to the accompaniment of groaning timbers, the screams of their companions, and the shrieking of horrible creatures.  
   Captain Lyesha saw the ground fall away and heaved her weight against the wheel on her side. The Guardian on the other side was quick to follow. People banged on the Gate, but she bellowed that they could damned well wait until they got to the islands.  
   "I'm sure there will be boats to transport you all to the mainland," she yelled. Gradually, the crowd thinned, though they still grumbled.  
   The Guardians packed the crack at the bottom of the Gate with anything they could find. Some even drew their shirts from their backs to use as batting.  
   Their whole world tilted. Those who weren't indoors were thrown against buildings, sleds, each other--whatever was nearby. Captain Lyesha clung to the wheel for stability, since it was bolted to Her shell. The other Guardian was wise enough to do the same. Those who were inside their houses were flung about, but there was less room to fall when Kaia splashed into the ocean.  
   Before that could happen, She had to shake three millennia of dirt, trees, and rocks off of Her shell. Her children clung to nearby objects, or dodged the ones that fell from Her shell, depending on whether they'd made it through the Gate or not. The ones outside fled to the dubious safety of the original Deep Dwarven tunnels, or out the natural arch that had been the Cavern entrance.  
   One of the few people who stood firm in the midst of the chaos was Minks Spannerwocket. He held the loose soil in an arch over the work crew until they got to the safety of his cousin's tunnels.  
   "Go, go, go!" he squeaked. "I can hold the earth, but I can't stop that thing from stepping on ya!"  
   The creatures of the darkness could not flee in time to avoid the bright sunlight that poured down around Her gargantuan feet. Nor could they avoid the flames that burst from the tiny gnome's other hand. They were either buried alive, which some could survive, or burned to embers where they crouched in whatever meager, rapidly dwindling shadows they'd found. Between the Great Tantalus and the tiny gnome, the majority of the residents lived. Some would be forever changed, but they would live.  
   When Kaia took the scant few tottering steps necessary to reach the ocean, all of the sediment that had held Her up, mixed with trees, smaller plants, and rocks, half filled the place that was once Tantalus Cavern. Some of it was dragged into the water with Her.   
   The little green man released his hold on the earth around him with an outward shove, to keep the tunnel opening clear. Then he dropped into his cousin's dark, burly arms.  
   "Ya did good, Minks. We got our home back."  
    It was once again a valley between two mountains, with a sheer drop to the sea on either side. The only way to the ocean used to be through Her shell, but now, the waterway was once again open.  
   The natural arch that used to be part of Her sanctuary now soared hundreds of feet above the loose, littered soil of the valley floor. The Deep Dwarf home caves were down to their original number, having lost every home they'd carved beneath Her shell. It would take months, if not years, to rebuild their homes, but at least they didn't have a colossal carcass to deal with.  
   The merfolk followed Kaia, since She no longer protected them from poachers. One group pushed an empty tanto shell they'd intended to deliver, unsure what to do with it now.  
   Once She evened out atop the waves, people trickled out of their homes, most of which had shifted. Some of the gardens were damaged by this movement, and by other debris. When the water beneath the Gate was spotted by those nearest, they flocked to find things to shore it up.  
   One of the Gizzyrix clan dumped a bucket full of sandy stuff along the edge, and it fluffed up wonderfully.  
   "It's a good thing that stuff is only halfway across. I don't know how we're going to open the Gate when we get there," Captain Lyesha said. "I just hope that magic sand of yours can compensate for the side that's not so thoroughly blocked."  
   "If I had more time, I could make another batch," she chirped, "but as ye say, we've got to open the gate again. I'm not sure the solvent will actually work, so we might have to chisel it away."  
   "There's a solvent? Well, good lady, you'd best get to testing it, hadn't you?"  
   "Sir, yes sir!" The little minx snapped a salute and darted away.


	58. Grandmothers

Meron sat there, his daughter on his lap, wondering what he'd just done. He'd saved the Elder, but at what cost?  
   “You know,”  _Zesu_  said, “My children's numbers are dwindling. We could always use another healthy male.”  
   Meron realized, rather belatedly, that the dark eunuch had spoken. Somewhat dumbly, he stated the obvious.  
   “So you can talk… Wait, you have kids?” He looked around, but no dark younglings materialized.  
    _Zesu_  laughed. “All of the  _kuren_  and derpireus are My children.”  
   “What are those?” he asked, having never heard the true name of the Crystal-Born.  
   Gromm, who did know, stared at Zezu with new eyes.  _What does he mean?_ he wondered.  _How are we all his children? What_  is  _he?_  
   The Elder God just laughed again. “You will find out soon enough. If you worry that you won't be up to the task, you hold proof otherwise.” He indicated Lili.  
   Meron looked down at his daughter. “And which are you, kitten?”  
   “We are  _kuren,”_  Gromm enlightened him. “Derpies are what's under the sleds.”  
   “Ha! I  _knew_  those weren't held up by magic!”  
   “Derpie, derpie, derpie,” Lili chanted.  
   “Speaking of which, I must check on their welfare. Can you watch over them while I do so?”  _Zesu_  asked.  
   The monk and half-orc nodded. The Elder Deity went to check on His adopted offspring, while the mortal fetched his own progeny. He felt better having them nearby.  
   “You might want to consider stopping at two children, you know.”  
   Gromm’s head snapped up, a haunted look in his eye. “You think I don't see what my seed does to the people I love?”  
   He stopped, unsure whether he actually loved his wife. He knew he didn't love Sheith in a romantic way, but as a brother. Loving his prickly sister was harder.  
   “It's the horns that did it, you know. Sheith was only half…  _kuren,_  was it? Anyway, your son's horns weren't as pronounced. They sweep back, like his… erm… other father's horns did. Your… uh, what have you got next to him, by the way?”  
   Gromm gazed down at his daughter with mixed feelings. Her wicked little horns, which more closely resembled his twisted ones, made him sad and proud, at the same time.  
   “I don't know what to name her, if my wife doesn't…”  
   Meron clapped a hand on his knee, across the corner of the bed. “I think she'll pull through. She's strong, like you.”  
   Gromm leaned to press his lips to her temple. “That's why I like her so much,” he said.  
   “Why do you like me?” she asked, struggling to open her eyes.  
   He squeezed her hand once. “That's my girl. Strong as an orc.”  
   She chuckled weakly. “You would say that. Trust an orc to see my stubbornness as a good thing.”  
   “Goodness knows  _I_  never did,” said a familiar voice from the doorway.  
   “Yeah, well you can go right back where you came from, and leave me with my mother.”  
   Midrii was about to protest, but the effeminate eunuch informed her that the Elder had spoken.  
    _“She's_  the Elder? I thought  _he_  was!”  
   Gromm frowned at her. “She named herself when she told our people about the Great Collapse. Did ye sleep through that?”  
   Midrii haughtily said that she'd been visiting family that day. A tinkling laugh from behind her caused a scowl to mar her deep blue-gray face.  
   “Midrii, love, I told you the Great Collapse was real. Didn't you believe me?” In an aside, she told the room at large (peeking around her wife's body) that she thought Livveth made the whole thing up.  
   The Deep Elf stalked out in a huff.  
   Livveth timidly approached her little family. Meron wanted to leave, but two things prevented it. First of all, he'd been ordered to keep an eye on the recovering Elder. Secondly, and most embarrassingly, Gromm told this frail woman that Lili was her granddaughter.  
   Her large onyx eyes filled with tears when she heard that her son had a baby before he died. No one wanted to tell her where he'd been, she looked so wan.  
   “And you had twins?” she asked Ealishe. Everyone looked at everyone else, but no one wanted to explain the complicated arrangement.  
   Instead of answering, she told her mother proudly (for the first time she'd done so) that the boy's name was Sheith.  
   “We haven't thought of a name for his sister yet,” Gromm said.  
   Ealishe sat a bit straighter. “I've an idea on that, if you don't mind.” Her husband nodded for her to go on.  
   “Sheith… my brother, that is… He told the girls that he wanted to name Lili after our grandmother.” She didn't say, in front of her mother, that brood mares weren't allowed to name their offspring. Livveth didn't ask what girls she was talking about, but she wouldn't think to ask it.  
   “What was your mother's name, good lady?” Gromm asked formally. He treated her with the same respect he gave her daughter.  
   “I didn't know Sheith remembered her,” she said dreamily. “Mama had me late, so you never got to meet her.”  
   “The name,” Meron prodded gently.  
   “Yes, it was a lovely name,” she said. She didn't seem keen on getting to the point, but fortunately, her daughter already knew it.  
   “Elispeth was her name. What do you think?” she asked.  
   Knowing how unlikely it was that he would give her more children, he agreed. She saw the look on his face, the bone-deep sorrow, and misinterpreted it.  
    _He's thinking about my brother, isn't he? Will I never occupy a place in his heart?_ She stubbornly told herself that she didn't need to be in his big, stupid heart. She had her child, and he had his. They could be satisfied with that.  
   “May I hold one?” Livveth asked.  
   Gromm looked to his wife. She waved a hand dismissively.  
   “Do you have a preference?” he asked her.  _He means ‘do I care if my mother holds my child or his first?’_ she thought acidly.  
   “I'll leave that to you, dear husband.”  
   He knew by her tone that something was amiss, though he did not know what. He guessed that she was testing him, but he would not play her games. Not so soon after almost losing her.  
   “How about you, good lady? Have you a preference?”  
    _Neatly avoided that trap,_ thought Meron. He didn't know what had gotten into the Elder, but he'd been around enough women to spot a setup when he heard one.  
   “Oh, whichever--no, wait. Does Sheith look like his father?”  
   Gromm let his wife answer.   
   She merely shrugged. “They both do, because they both look like me. But for the decade between us, we could have been twins.” She slid a Look sideways, thinking  _that's how we got into this predicament._ She still didn't know how she felt about that.  
   “Then I'd like to hold my granddaughter first,” she said firmly. She didn't want to be reminded of her lost son just now.  
   Gromm brought her the wee thing, breathing an internal sigh of relief. If she'd asked to see Sheith first, his wife might have gone back to resenting him. If he'd brought her Elispeth on his own, she might have thought he was erecting a wall of His and Her babies.  
   The wall may have been created anyway when his own mother showed up, demanding answers.


	59. Gradja Has Her Say

“Don't tell  _me_  to keep my voice down! I haven't seen my son in two months, and instead of a Great Collapse, you lot tell us we've set sail! Now, where is my  _son?”_  she roared.  
   She was struck mute by the room full of people. Her son was standing beside a cradle. A  _cradle!_  
   Unwilling to get her hopes up, Gradja asked her son whose baby the Crystal-Born woman was holding. She did not yet see the infant in the cradle.  
   “I know I should have told you sooner, but that… boyfriend of yours unsettles me. I am related in one way or another to all three of the children in this room; through birth, or through my wife.”  
   Gradja harrumphed loudly enough to wake Sheith. He began whimpering, which set off his little sister.  
   Neither Gromm nor Ealishe knew what to do. He didn't want his traditionalist mother knowing that he breastfed his son.  
   Gromm handed little Sheith to his aunt, who diffidently tucked him under the gown that was still hiked up around her hips. She wasn't eager to expose her bosom.   
   Gradja barked at Livveth to hand her son the other babe, but they didn't know if she could produce enough milk for both. He raised his eyebrows at her, holding his daughter, as if to ask whether she wanted to try. She took the unhappy baby and positioned her next to her half brother.   
   It was the first time she'd fed her nephew. She held herself stiffly. She was afraid to move, because it wasn't a pleasant experience.  
   Gromm bent near her ear. “If you have pain, I can help.”  
   She blushed at the reminder that he had four more days’ experience than she did.  
   “Would you excuse us? I'm not very proficient yet…”  
   Gradja simply laughed, a hearty roar. “It's nothing we haven't seen before, eh lass? By the way, are ye goin’ to introduce us? I'm guessin’ yer the other grandma, yeah?”  
   “Yes, ma'am, she is.”  
   Realizing that neither mother was going to leave, he sat on the bed at his wife's hip and blocked her torso with his much wider one. He adjusted the upper lip on one infant, the lower lip on the other. He murmured that what she saw was the proper position. He arranged her gown to hide her breasts. Then, because they had an audience, he kissed her lightly on the cheek. He never knew which way her mood was blowing, and he wanted to give her some affection while he could.  
   Then he sat next to the bed and made small talk. Meron was introduced to the mothers, the mothers to each other, and the married couple were formally introduced to their respective in-laws.  
   “Why wasn't I told that I had a grandchild on the way?” Gradja demanded in her brusque way.  
   “They didn't even tell me they were married,” Livveth reassured her.  
   Gradja scowled at her son. “That's just not right, and you know it.”  
   Livveth stared vacantly at the babies, and at Lili. She patted the little girl on the leg, and she promptly tugged on the older woman's arm. Meron advised against allowing her on the fragile woman's lap, but she missed having little ones around. She smiled brighter than Ealishe had ever seen, despite the horn tugging.  
   Gromm looked at his lap, but could not deny his mother's words. Ealishe watched her daughter and… nephew? Stepson? It was easier than facing an irate, full-blooded orc.  
   “Well, I can see I'm not going to get any time with the pups, so you can walk me home.”  
   He knew full well that she could get home on her own, but he was a dutiful son. He kissed his wife goodbye and walked out the door, shoulders slumped. He knew he was in for an earful.  
   “So,” Livveth said in her dreamy voice, “you married that nice orc.”  
   Rather than telling her mother the hard truth, which they never did, she gently corrected her. “He's only half orc, Mama. The other half is  _kuren.”_  She didn't expect a reply, and none was forthcoming. She suspected that her husband wasn't getting off so easily.

   Gradja lambasted her son the whole way home, even cuffed him upside the head a few times to emphasize her point. He took it all without a word, because he'd earned it.  
   Only in the safety of her home did he ask the question foremost on his mind.  
   “Mother, is there… any way to make sure I don't…”  
   She looked him in the eye and waited, arms crossed, somewhat less than patiently.  
   “I almost killed her today, and I don't want to do that again,” he blurted. His eyes swam with moisture, but he refused to cry in front of his mother. It simply wasn't the orc way.  
   Riin’kas must've had a softening influence on her, though. She pulled him into a fierce, if brief hug. She whacked him on the back, then let him go.  
   “I'll ask Riin if he's got something. Now, for the love of Gruumsh, why didn't you  _tell_  me?!”  
   So he sat on his mother's futon and told her the whole, ugly story. He left nothing out, not even the Brood Palace.  
   “So that's why yer eyes are leakin’. Ye think ye killed the lad, and yer spawn nearly killed your wife. That 'bout sum it up?”  
   He nodded at the carpet and scrubbed his face dry with his wide palms. Where he openly showed emotion with his wife, his mother was never big on such things.   
   “Do you love her?” she asked bluntly.  
   “I don't know. Maybe. She has the heart of an orc.” He lifted his shirt to show off his battle scars. That was quite orcish.  
   Gradja grunted her approval. “I'm surprised ye haven't killed her before now, if  _that's_  what she does to ya.”  
   He merely shrugged, the landslide of scales saying “my hide can take whatever she can dish out.”  
   “Well, I can't say as I approve of your secrecy, but I can tell you'll have a fight on your hands. I get the feeling, from what you've told me, that you'll be hard-put to get her to admit to any feelings for you. Or your son, you may as well know.”  
   “But I don't think of them like that, my son and her daughter. They're both my children.”  
   His mother clucked her tongue. “I'm betting she does, though. Probably her way of coping with her brother's loss.”  
   He covered his face with both paws. “What do I do?”  
   She thumped him on he shoulder. “Ye do what every orc does: you fight. Not with words, like you and I do, but with actions. No matter how hard she pushes you or him away, you stand firm, y’hear me? If you decide you love her, let her see it, every day.” Her gruff voice broke, but she was too orcish to cry.  
   “I'm guessing you think Dad didn't love you, then?”  
   She thwapped his shoulder. “I know he didn't. I was a means to an end, and I was fine with that. It wasn't until I found my Riin that I knew what I was missing.”  
   He saw his mother with new, uncomfortable eyes. She was a woman in love, one who'd been nothing more than convenient to her husband. Though she'd never shown mother love to him, somehow he never doubted it.  
   But did she know he loved her?  
   He wrapped her in a colossal hug, one he'd never inflict on his wife. “You know I love you, right?”  
   She squeezed him just as hard, pulled away too soon for his liking. “‘Course I do,” she said. She was no Oracle, so he didn't know if she knew it before today. He resolved to spend more time with her--and “her” Riin--in the future.


	60. Unsettling Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zesu gives Gromm food for thought.

His mother was right. Ealishe used every chance she could to avoid feeding little Sheith. She didn't push Gromm out of her bed, but only because he left Sheith with her, the one time she tried.  
   He let her sleep at night, however. He made enough milk for both babies, so he fed them equally. She was put-out that he fed her daughter.  
   He treated the newborns as full siblings, for they were both his children. If he changed one diaper, he at least checked the other. If she fed Elispeth, he handed her Sheith. When she tried feeding only Elispeth, he switched their clothes. He dressed her in her brother's clothes, and him in his sister's.  
   It took her three days to notice; days in which he'd allowed her to feed only one child. Her brother's child. They were close in size, and both resembled her. Elispeth was purplish blue, while her brother was a dusky blue-gray, and of course the horns were different. Their daughter had her father's twisted horns, while little Sheith had the typical back-swept horns of the  _kuren._  
   Ealishe was furious with her husband, but her mother was there when she made the discovery. She invited her often, to act as a buffer. Gradja showed up at will, eager to help where she could.  
    _It's not fair that he looks just like me_ , she thought at the tiny child.  _Elispeth looks like her father, except she's got my coloring. It's hard to tell whose hair either of them will inherit. They're just dark blobs, right now._  
    The damage was done, as far as her nephew was concerned. She'd spent the past three days adoring his every feature, counting fingers and toes, and coiling his little tail around her finger. As for her husband, he'd find out what happened when you crossed  _her!_

   The ocean voyage was pleasant. She would occasionally take a walk out on Kaia’s armored skull, though she had to wait for nighttime. Her husband, who'd never left the Cavern, made the short trip during the day. The other difference was, he would sit there, atop the Great Tantalus, and Speak with Her. It would be the last time he would have the pleasure. Mostly, he thanked Her for protecting their people for as long as She had.  
   Sometimes,  _Zesu_  joined him. It was always when her mother was visiting, for He dare not abandon His post.  
   “I'd forgotten how beautiful the ocean was, this far from land,” He said the first time.  
   “How long will it take to get to these islands?” he asked, when what he wanted to ask was “Will She make it that far?”  
   “A few weeks,” He rumbled. Out here, the echo was less apparent.  
   The day after she discovered his clothing swap, Gromm sat with his son in his lap. He'd never brought the fragile newborn out to the unsteady, wind-blown surface of Her head, but he needed fresh air, and his son needed to eat.  
   “I wonder if you know how unique you are,” the powerful Elder Deity said.  
   He just huffed out a laugh. “I'm the only half orc, half  _kuren_  in existence, sir. It's hard not to notice.”  
    _Zesu_  sat, something Gromm had never seen Him do, and He leaned against Kaia’s shell. “You are the only living child of Mine to have spoken to both Myself, and Kaia. The only reason the Elder was able to do so was through you.”  
   Gromm sat for a while, digesting His words. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel. Honored, perhaps, but he'd Spoken with Kaia for so long that it was second nature. When he met Zezu, the eunuch, he seemed to be like other men, aside from his perpetual silence.  
   “What is it that You do, if I may ask?” he asked at length.   
   “You just did,” the Elder God laughed.  
   “It was My duty to watch over the  _kuren_  and the derpy migrations.” He told Gromm what he told the Lady Elder, about the attack on Kaia. He did not shed tears, though it was a close thing.  
   “Your book is correct, in that the  _kuren_  were dying out.  _Oban’dal,_  where we are going, is deep underwater. It is at the bottom of the ocean.” He paused to let that sink in, no pun intended.  
   “There was no way to bring new blood in. At the time, I did not know about dwarfkind, or Deep Elves. I was unaware of trolls, or earth elementals. The only kind I'd ever met were water elementals, and those could not breed with My children. Neither could the merfolk, though some tried.”  
   “So when Kaia was attacked, You helped her to shore, but how did the  _kuren_  get inside, in the first place?”  
   Zesu gestured to the door he'd used so many times now. “That is no ordinary portal. ‘Tis a valve. The Tantalus vent air from their shells, in order to dive. Kaia will not be able to use it, having so many passengers. We shall need to recruit one of My sister's Children to help Her descend.”  
   Gromm was afraid to ask about the sister of an Elder God, so he asked about Her children instead.  
   “The Seven Star Archipelago is not as diverse as the mainland; much like My demesne. It is home to humans unlike ones you've met. All have eyes like mine, though perhaps a bit less… unsettling. All are psions, like My sister and I. They have wolf-like companions, called  _dyahr._  If you should meet one, treat it as you would any other sentient being.”  
   “Like Your derpies?”  
    _Zesu_  smiled His approval. “Exactly so.  
   “Each island has an elected leader. That leader protects their people. All seven report to one Noble. Unlike in  _Oban’dal,_  the Noble is a hereditary title.”  
   “Like a king?” he asked.  
   “Mm, sort of. It is not always a direct line from one to the other. Often, it is someone with the bloodline who meets certain criteria. I do not ask for the details, because they are My sister's people, but you needed to know the basics of their culture. I will brief your Elder wife, while you think.”  
   He left, having spoken more words than he'd heard in months of association.  
   And so, Gromm sat, and thought, and burped his son.


	61. Hard Truths and Hard Mixcrete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gradja gives Ealishe a talking-to, and Mixi seals the Gate.

Gradja came to visit while her son was on one of his Communes with Kaia. When she was told that he was outside, the orc surprised her by sitting down to wait.  
   “Forgive me for being blunt, but it's awfully stupid to push my son away. He cares for you and the children in a way that… I can only assume he learned it from his father, because I never learned how.  
   “And if you think he doesn't care about you, I'll tell you something he never would: After my granddaughter was born, he broke down and cried. He never cries in front of me. Ever. Not even when he broke his arm. But my son wept, and he asked me if there was a way to keep you from getting pregnant again. To keep you safe,  _alive.”_  She whacked her knee twice, to emphasize the last two words.  
   Ealishe tried interrupting several times, but fell silent. She didn't know what to say. She remembered being called his little she-orc, more than once. She saw again his face, the day she died. It was haunted, hollow-eyed. He looked like part of himself nearly died.  
   Uncomfortable with these new perceptions, she lashed out the only way she knew. “Did he also tell you that he can breastfeed his children?”  
   She saw how hard he worked to keep that knowledge from his mother, and she was damned if she'd suffer alone.  
   “Sounds like him,” the orc said, surprising her yet again. “He's just like his father. Always has been. Long’s he doesn't go getting pregnant, I'm fine with it.” She realized belatedly what she said, having forgotten about the adult Sheith dying the way he did.  
   “I'm sorry, I didn't mean…”  
   Ealishe paled. “My brother was braver than any orc, I'll have you know! And he was a  _real_  man, no matter what anyone says. He may have birthed a few babies in his day, but he sired almost as many.”  
   Gradja held up her paws, palm out. “I meant no disrespect, My Lady. Your people's ways are foreign to me, but I am trying to learn. Please forgive my rash, thoughtless comment.”  
   The burning red eyes slowly faded to black. “It might be best if my husband came to you, at least for a few days.”  
   “Yes, of course… Will he be able to bring my grandchildren?” she asked cautiously.  
   The violet lips pursed. “Perhaps,” was all she would say.

   Meron watched Lili play with other mixed-race children. He didn't know what species comprised the younglings, only which ones Lili played with most harmoniously. He absently noted that in the past, he would have tried to discern heritage.  
    _That one with the pretty hair is probably half dwarf, half elf. Dunno if both parents are dark-skinned, but she is. Not sure it matters anymore. We're all going somewhere together. Not that skinny one over there, though. No trace of Deep Races, so he'll have to stay behind on the islands._  
   When he did look at bloodlines now, those were his thoughts: who would stay, and who would go. The  _kuren_  ceased to be exotic, since roughly three quarters of the several thousand people left were at least part  _kuren._  
   He thought about this mysterious destination of theirs. Zezu said there was a need for virile young men, strong enough to survive the trip. He was smart enough to figure out that their home had to be either inside a volcano, or deep under the sea. Ordinary humans would die in the oppressive heat of a volcano. It would explain the scales on a  _kuren._  If the homeland was far enough underwater, it would be the pressure that killed.  
   As a holy man, he was granted the ability to withstand both conditions. He wasn't sure which he would prefer. One would offer sunlight, but both would allow for hot food. Surely, fire could not be a concern underwater.  
   “No, Lili, play gentle.”  
 _They said the very young and the very old should stay behind. What are they going to do with the babies? Is Lili old enough to come with me?_  
   He didn't want to leave her behind. She'd adapted marvelously, once she realized that she could go outside whenever she wanted, provided she was properly dressed. She didn't seem to miss her  _dami_  at all, after the first few weeks.  
    _I wonder if she's five years old now,_ he thought. He did the math in his head.  _Yes, I left five years and eight months ago, so she'll be five soon enough. I wonder if she knows her birth date?_  
   He mentally shrugged. He could make one up, and she'd never know the difference. Now that there was no limit on their lifespans, she didn't need to know the exact day.  
   It dawned on him, as he watched his little girl play with the other children, that she would outlive him by untold centuries.

   Mixi Gizzyrix proudly demonstrated the solvent for Captain Lyesha.  
   “And this is the same stuff you put along the Gate?” she asked of the test foam. With gnomes, you never knew. Some were brilliant, while others were forever forgetting to carry the one, whatever that meant.  
   “Yessiree!” she chirped.  
   “Have you got enough to unseal the Gate completely?”  
   The gnome nodded enthusiastically.  
   “Then you have my permission to seal it the rest of the way. The batting isn't holding as well as we'd like.”  
   Mixi felt obliged to inform the captain that once she sealed it, she'd be out of the ingredients to make more.  
   “That's okay, the Elder has a plan for that. Go ahead and plug Her up tight.”  
   Mixi shrugged and waded out into the puddle to pour the mixcrete, as she was calling it. She'd developed it for use in insulating homes, but it hadn't worked out. All it did was turn the shell into a bumpy mess. The test house, which belonged to her cousin, never lost a Crystal after she painted the domed structure, which was how she figured out that it plugged holes. Her cousin was never able to find the perfect size Crystal. It could also be that she was too impatient, but that never occurred to either gnome.  
   The stuff took longer to solidify, due to the puddle, but she expected that. The point was, it did harden, and the leak did stop.  
   Lyesha sent a team of Guardians to bail the water into cauldrons, to be boiled for drinking. They only had a few mages left, and that was what they'd been recruited for.  
   She hoped they were close to the islands, because that was their main water supply that they just plugged up.


	62. Winged She-Orc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Elder tests her newly fledged wings--and her husband's resolve.

The Elder and her contingent had adequate water stores, having a direct line to the ocean.  _Zesu_  desalinated the water as it was hauled aboard. Gromm had a bucket for the salt, and a basin for the clean water. It was a simple task for one as strong as an orc; a task he enjoyed daily.   
   He did not begrudge his children the nourishment he provided them, but it occasionally damaged his manhood. Hauling water was such a masculine duty that it rejuvenated him. He pulled up so much water that they were able to send some to the common stores.  
   The day after Lyesha ordered the leak sealed,  _Zesu_  had the eunuchs deliver the first basin full of water to the bathhouse. It was the only place with large enough tubs for storage, and had been used for that purpose since Kaia’s departure. His children had been bathing with dry, dwindling soapsand reserves, to save water.  
   When the basin came back, He'd had an idea. Since the two month old infants were asleep, He invited His Lady Elder to stretch her wings.  
   “I've been doing that,” she said hesitantly.  
   He handed her the bucket, and some oddly-shaped, tinted goggles. “Care to try with weights?”  
   Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. Finally, she was able to  _do_  something!  
   She snatched the bucket, snapped the goggles over her horns, and dove overboard. Kaia bellowed, whether in warning or greeting, only three of them knew. The one who didn't know didn't care. She skimmed the surface, flying lower than ever, dipping the pail in the cool water.  
   The spray on her cheeks was invigorating! She glided back up, her tough wings easily sloughing off the droplets that would impede most feathered creatures. Despite the dark goggles, she still had to close her eyes against the glare, until she felt rather than saw the shade Kaia’s shell provided. She landed beside her husband, toiling at the rope, and dumped her bucketful of water in with his.   
   He smiled up at her, with a spark of hope that she would smile back. She was so full of the thrill of flight that she beamed down at him before diving again.  
    _This,_  she thought. This  _is what I was made for!_    
   Gromm had a similar thought, happy to see her enjoying herself at last.  
   She would have flown all day, had they allowed it.  _Zesu_  called her in after about an hour, when her wings were beginning to tremble. She turned to dive again, but her husband caught her around the waist with a playful growl.  
   “Nay, love, you've done enough for one day. Save some water for tomorrow.” He kissed her neck and wobbled her body side to side as he walked her back toward the door.  
   Caught up in the spirit of adventure, she wriggled against him, in a half-hearted ploy for freedom. The Elder Deity followed with the eunuchs, and their tub of water.  
   Gromm walked her toward her bedroom, but she threw herself sideways when they passed his old room. He wasn't prepared for the lunge, so they toppled through the half open door.  
   “What are you on about, wife?” he rumbled next to her auditory canal.  
   She aimed a kick between his legs that shut the door.  
   “Ealishe,” he warned, releasing her as if she'd turned into a torch.  
   She spun to face him, eyes alight. She tore the goggles from her head, flung them at a chair. “You never use my name,” she accused.  
   “When you tempt fate…”  
   Her lips stopped his words. He tried to hold her away from him, but she wrapped her arms around his neck like a clinging vine. She plastered her damp body to his, craving a release that she'd been denied too long.  
   He wrested his lips away long enough to protest, but she hopped in the air and captured his waist in a thigh vise. Her heels locked around each other, tail wrapped around one of his muscular legs.  
   “No,” he tried to say. He didn't mean “No, I'm not attracted to you,” he meant “No, I won't risk it.”  
   She knew all of that. She didn't care. She was young and reckless, and she'd beaten Death once already.  
   A battle of wills ensued. He put his hands at her waist and pushed, but that just overbalanced them. They fell onto the bed, right where she wanted to be. She squirmed against him, unwilling to give an inch. He pushed against her, to no avail. She had leverage.  
   He managed to pry her arms from around his neck and sit up, but she still had his loins trapped. With her arms free, she yanked the laces of his breeches open.  
   “No!” he protested. “I won't risk your life again.”  
   She curled upright, though her abdomen protested. “Not even if I order it?” she asked, her eyes a bit wild.  
   “Not even then.”  
   She laced her arms around his neck, more loosely this time. “I'm stronger than you give me credit for,” she said, unnervingly calm.  
   “Strength matters not when my seed bears thorny fruit,” he said between gritted teeth.  
   She pretended to think about his words, but part of him put the lie to his words. His mouth said no, but the liberated burden between his legs said yes. She dropped her locked heels to the mattress, which he mistook for capitulation. Instead, she used her heels and the elbows on his shoulders to lift herself onto the one place she wanted to be.  
   He saw her intent, too late to prevent it. Down she went, with deadly accuracy, and all coherent thought fled. Her skirt rode high around their hips, and she rode him hard. No meek lady, this. Nay, the woman who drove her husband mad was the she-orc he affectionately called her.   
   He didn't stand a chance against her onslaught. Though he tried, her fiery attack crumbled his defenses. He buried his teeth in her shoulder to stifle his climax, while hers sank into his.  
   They sat there, mouths on each other's skin, sweating and shaking. He was ashamed that this rough, heated coupling was the most pleasurable encounter yet.  
   He pressed his bloody lips to her shoulder in apology. She pressed her equally red lips to his neck. He thought he would rather have her end him, in true orc style, than to watch her swell with his child again.  
   But she didn't. Oh, she'd heard his mother's tales of orc mating. She knew what was possible. She felt him briefly tense, then surrender.  _Why does he not fear death?_ she wondered.  
   She leaned back, chin horns adorned with specks of his blood. To her surprise, he hauled her back into his arms and begged for a quick end.  
   “Please, don't make me watch you die again,” he said, over and over. “End it, please. Make it quick.”  
   She supposed an orc woman would oblige him. His lifeblood pumped beneath her cheek, bait for the bloodthirsty. But Ealishe was no orc. She was  _kuren,_  and there were few enough left.  
   “Snap out of it, you big baby! I'm not dying, and neither are you!” She ducked out of his grasp and rolled off of his flaccid member.  
   “I've got an Elder God, a High Monk, and you by my side. Nothing save time shall end me,  _or_  you! I forbid it!”  
   He snuffled, wiped his face. Her blood painted a streak up his muzzle. “You would, wouldn't you?”  
   She laughed. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I would. Here, clean your face. I'll tend to your shoulder, but we've got to be quick. I can hear the twins starting up.”  
   That's what they'd begun calling them in front of their in-laws, and it seemed to have stuck. He wiped dried blood from her, and she him. They hastily dabbed dry cloths at their shoulder wounds, and covered them with their clothing as best they could. Gromm’s clothing was still in this room, so he was able to change his leather jerkin for a sleeved tunic.  
    _Zesu_  didn't comment on their attire. When they'd fed, burped, and changed the babies, He brought them water and bandages.  
   “Aiee!” Ealishe yelped. “Why does this water burn? What's in it?”  
   Gromm could taste the brine, but he took his punishment without comment. He behaved as a man on his way to the gallows.  
   “You were foolish enough to bait the beast without warning. I had neither the time nor the inclination to remove the salt from your bath water.” His voice echoed more than usual.  
   Her chin went up rebelliously. She slapped the salt water on her shoulder without breaking eye contact with the Elder Deity.  
   Gromm could only sigh and shake his great head. It was when she acted like an orc that he desired her most, but it was bound to get one or both of them killed.


	63. Seven Star Archipelago

They made landfall the next day. Before she exited the Great Tantalus,  _Zesu_  put a strange, crystalline ring in her palm. He didn't explain why she needed it now, but when an Elder Deity gifted you something, you wore it!  
   Ealishe, Gromm,  _Zesu,_  Meron, of course Lili, and the eunuchs descended from Kaia’s snout as regally as possible when you're walking down a hard, beaked protrusion.  
   Gromm and Ealishe were the first to set foot on the island. They wore cloaks with very deep hoods, to protect their eyes. Even so, Ealishe still required her special goggles. A little girl waited for them, hands behind her back. She looked to be roughly twice Lili’s age.  
   Gromm bent down on one knee before her. “Greetings, youngling. May we speak with your most powerful psion?”  
   The child did not budge.  
   “How about your shipmaster? We have many displaced people who need to return to the mainland.” Ealishe did not kneel, but she did bend a bit closer.  
   She didn't know how strange she looked to the human child, in her hood and goggles, clawed appendages, and long tail. Most children would have run in fear, not that the Elder ever knew it. This was no ordinary child.  
   The girl raced down the wharf, black hair flying. She returned with a middle-aged man who walked with a limp.  
   “What can I do for you?” He didn't seem at all shocked by the enormous, city-sized, crystal-covered shell behind them, or the oddly-attired landing party.  
   “We require your strongest psion, and safe passage for families to the mainland,” she said.  
   The man called the little girl back. Gromm and Ealishe exchanged a confused glance.  
   Still kneeling, Gromm spoke to the child. “We need someone very strong, do you understand?”  
   The girl's silver eyes danced with mischief as she nodded.  
   “Think you can find someone like that?”  
   The man coughed. “She is the strongest psion we have.”  
   “You mean there is no one else?” he asked in dismay. If a little girl was all they could spare…  
   The child's eyes flashed with anger, her tiny fists balled up. The man behind her set a hand on her shoulder.  
   “Please don't make her angry. Last time a visitor questioned her abilities, we had to rebuild half the city.”  
   With new respect, Gromm asked what her name was.  
   “Vaylah,” she said, in a clear, sharp voice.  
   “Well, Vaylah, we don't just need someone who is strong. We need someone with control and power. Somebody strong enough to go to the bottom of the ocean.”  
   Her eyes brightened to platinum, and the man groaned. “She’ll never be able to pass up a challenge like  _that!”_  
   Vaylah thrust her hand out and pumped his hand with surprising vigor. “Deal!” she chirped.  
   “What about us?” Snow asked.  
   The older man shrugged. “You're welcome to stay. We don't go beyond the Archipelago, though.”  
   This didn't bother the eunuchs, who were just happy to be out in the sunlight. The humans who'd been trapped inside Kaia were equally happy.  
   The elves, however, were keen to return to their forests.  
   “There's enough driftwood that you can maybe build a boat? My friends might be persuaded to show you how.”  
   “That will have to do,” the elves said.  
   Some few elves opted to stay. They were old, and this place was interesting. The handful of halflings that hadn't made it out in time stayed on the island, for they too were old and bored. They'd fully expected to die in the Cavern, so this new adventure gladdened their wizened little hearts.  
   The catkin were divided. Some wanted to attempt the journey, others wanted to stay, and even more wanted to be back on familiar territory. The changeling and lycanthrope population decided to stay, once they spotted the large, intelligent wolves. Whether they would remain and learn from the creatures or not depended on this elected leader of theirs.  
   The fey were divided, until Councilwoman Rill Shissar pointed out that they could pop up to the surface whenever they wanted.  
   “If the pressure gets to be too much, we just poof!” she squeaked.  
   The trolls and fungal ents didn't bother to disembark. The trolls stayed because they feared being misunderstood or attacked. The ents stayed because they were agoraphobic.  
   Most of the gnomes stayed aboard, but the older ones hobbled into the open air. They weren't sure that they would survive the journey.  
   “What are we, a retirement community?” one silver-eyed lad griped.  
   A halfling poked him in the knee. “Don't you know that elders have vast stores of knowledge? Why, I bet I could teach you a hundred recipes you didn't know. Mirda over there can teach youngsters to paint, Brith can teach smithing--you do allow fire, dontcha?”  
   The teenager just gaped. “Uh, yeah, we… Did you say you know how to cook a hundred things?”  
   The old halfling cackled. “I said I could cook a hundred things you haven't seen, I bet. My recipe book is in my trunk, if you'll be so kind as to grab it.”  
   That was how Littlefoot Lightheart won over the youth of the island. She baked something new every day she lived, and as she said, every pastry was a revelation. On the hundred and first day after Landing, she passed away in her sleep. Rhyvn treasured her cookbook his whole life, striving to achieve half the skill she'd shown him.  
   The other retirees meshed with the locals, teaching them new things as long as they lived. When they died, they were buried in the soil without boxes. To a one, they wanted to become one with the island after they were gone.  
   The humans stayed, eventually migrating to the other islands over the generations. Gradually, Zesu’s sister began seeing gold eyes in Her children.  
   All of the humans remained on the Seven Star Archipelago, except one. Meron found the bright sunshine jarring after spending most of a year inside Kaia, and the briny air irritated him. Poor Lili, though she was two generations away from being Trueblood, whimpered at the bright light.  
   “Well, He did say they needed fresh blood. Come Lili, let's go inside.” He left behind the island of silver-eyed nymphs in favor of an uncertain environment, for the sake of his daughter.  
   Vaylah gazed around her with awe when she walked through the Gate. She took in the houses, the gardens, the Crystals. Kaia looked even more empty than before, having turned so Her less hardy passengers could disembark. She faced the ocean now, and She wanted to go home.  
   She gave a great bellow of inquiry. Gromm knelt next to the nearest Crystal and told Her that it was almost time.  
    _:Just a little longer, Lady mine.:_  He'd begun resorting to sweet talk to coax her onward, for her reserves were waning. Her life was ebbing, and She worried endlessly.  
   When Captain Lyesha was certain that the little girl knew what they needed, she tapped the Vanguard Oracle on his wide shoulder.  
    _:All right, old gal, let me get up there with You, and we can go.:_  
   He hopped on a newly unfettered derpy and urged it to run home.  _:Hurry, your Elder isn't going to last much longer!:_  
   All six furry legs churned in the closest thing to a gallop that a derpy could achieve. He leapt from its back and ran through the now unguarded door. As soon as he joined his wife and children on the big bed,  _Zesu_  gave the order to dive.


	64. The Death of Kaia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all knew it was coming, but damn, it stings!

Vaylah held the water back. The tall, funny-looking blue lady held her up while the world tilted. One arm wrapped around what looked like a ship's steering wheel, only metal. The other arm pinned her light body to her scaly side.  
   It got harder to hold the pressure, the further they went, but after a certain point, she barely had to concentrate. It was like the water was holding the door, instead of the other way around.  
   Somewhere among the shifting, groaning houses, Bishop Krakk crept closer to the unguarded Elder’s Quarters. His auditory canals popped as the cave sank, but he was a bishop. Surely, he could survive the deep sea.  
   He was halfway to his goal when his breathing became ragged. The little, colorful people in the house nearby were playing music. Wind pipes, as if it weren't insult enough.  
   He made it to the back of another house when his old, hollow-boned legs seized with painful cramps. The stocky people in  _this_  house were dancing!  
   He hobbled past another house, onto the main causeway. It was faster, and the Guardians were too busy to notice him.  
   His old bones creaked with every step he took, every foot She dove down. Finally, with the door in sight, they began snapping like dry twigs. First his legs, then his hips, up to his ribs. He collapsed, gasping for air, but nothing came out except his own blood.   
   After an eternity, his skull burst, and he knew no more.

   Ealishe held Sheith, who was the first babe she grabbed. Gromm snatched Elispeth and dashed to the bed. Meron and Lili huddled on the bed in the room next to Gromm’s former bedroom.  _Zesu_  stood in the corner, immovable as granite.  
   Meron had to erect a field around himself to minimize the pressure on his human body. He held Lili in his lap to include her in the protection. He still didn't know if she was too young to survive.  
   Gromm and Ealishe huddled around their two month old babies, eyes glowing anxiously. They needn’t have worried, however.  _Zesu_  did for the siblings what Meron did for Lili.  
   Murieta’s son didn't have the benefit of a barrier, but the nurse closed every door to try and direct the pressure away. He popped the tiny ears of all the remaining orphans periodically, and hummed at varying pitches. Anything he could think to do, he did. Elein copied him as best she could.  
   The trip to the bottom of the ocean was surprisingly brief. It took perhaps twenty minutes. Kaia let out one last gusty breath.  
   The last breath She would ever exhale.  
    _Zesu_  patted the shell, the Crystals, even the floor. He said goodbye to Her with every step He took to the Gate. The Elder and her Kindred followed him, tears streaming unchecked down their faces. Meron walked at a respectful distance behind them.  
   Slowly, people poked their heads out of their front doors, many of which weren't in the same place they were when they departed. They saw the Elder, wings splayed in her first public display since her coronation, carrying her nephew-son. They saw the tears on the faces of the adults.  
   People joined the somber procession, gathering more people as they drew closer to the Gate. Countless eyes were wet.  
   “You can let go, little one. We are home,”  _Zesu_  said to Vaylah.  
   “You sure? How do you know we won't drown?” she asked skeptically. She didn't know that she addressed an Elder God, not that it would have mattered to her.  
   “There is a beach, of sorts. There is enough room for the Gate, trust Me.”  
   Again, she asked “But how do you know?”  
   His warm brown eyes flashed silver, unnecessarily in Lyesha’s case. She knew that voice, despite the fact that she'd never heard it.  
   “I Created it thus, that is why.”  
   The crowd gasped, and most fell back in respect.  
    _Zesu_  changed before their eyes. His skin formed barklike ridges, similar to a troll. His face lengthened into a more animalistic version of a male  _kuren._  A chocolate colored, bushy tail sprang from beneath His vestments. Twin horns spiraled high above His head, two more from His chin.  
   Last, but definitely not least, dark, rubbery wings shredded His clothes from His body.  
   “Open the Gate,” said the Elder God, His voice filling the entire Cavern of His child's shell.  
    _No wonder He never spoke,_ Lyesha thought.  _That'd be a dead giveaway, and only the people who are staying heard it._  
   The little girl shrugged and let go of her hold on the Gate. She was fascinated by the big brown man, but she wasn't about to inflate His ego by telling  _Him_  that!  
    _Zesu_  flicked His fingers at the wheels, and the Gate groaned open for the last time.  
   A collective gasp rippled through the crowd again.  
   It was lighter here than inside of Kaia, but darker than Above. Countless Crystals lit the mind-boggling expanse, in every size, color, and shape imaginable. They could hear fountains splashing playfully in courtyards, though they could only see one. The others were background music to the awed newcomers.  
   Best of all, torches blazed around the landing site.  
   One of the gnomes leapt onto another gnome’s shoulders to inspect a torch, only to come away confused.  
   “That is elemental fire, little one.”  
    _Zesu_  turned and embraced an ethereal creature with silver eyes and midnight hair. Tears left molten silver tracks down His face, and Hers.  
   “Tatyana, how I've missed you,” He boomed. The mortals covered their ears or auditory canals.  
   “Come, brother. We have much to discuss. You have free reign of this place, children. Few remain to challenge you. Please respect what few children We have left, yes?”  
   The elder generations that made the trip grumbled about being called children until they were reminded (or told, if they missed it) that these were Elder Deities. They walked the earth long before some species were even Created.


	65. New Elders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why are there so many Elders?

Ealishe and Grimm were at a loss. In their home, they were the leaders, but what were they here?  
   “Why don't you take wing, see what you can see?” her Kindred suggested.  
   She nodded and handed little Sheith to him. “Wait, there is nothing to launch from.”  
   Gromm just laughed and handed their children to his mother. He knelt with two meaty paws interlaced.  
   “Go on, love. I'll launch you as high as you like.”  
   Her eyes sparkled a bright ruby. She put her foot in his paws, her hands on his massive shoulders.   
   “On the third bounce, yes?”  
   Without waiting for an answer, he bobbed her foot once, twice, then hurled his wife into what passed for a sky. She squealed with delight, spiraling high into the air. When she felt her momentum wane, her amethyst wings snapped open.  
   She glided over the sprawling city in broad sweeps, taking in as much as she could. Heads popped out of depressingly few windows, staring in awe. The people of  _Oban’dal_  trotted down to the wharf to meet the new arrivals while the Elder explored while she could.  
   She lost altitude more quickly down here, but her husband stayed as close as he could, with buildings and streets to navigate. Her mother-in-law easily kept pace with him.  
   When she was too close to the rooftops, she landed next to Gromm.  
   “Ready for another go, or have you seen enough?” he asked.  
   Conscious of the people gaping at her, she merrily told him to assume the position. She backed up a ways. He saw what she had in mind, and braced accordingly.  
   The flashy young Elder sprinted into her Consort’s cupped paws, confident that he would launch her skyward. The half-orc easily turned her forward motion into upward motion.  
   “She likes a show, eh?” his mother whispered.  
   He followed in his wife's wake, grinning widely. “Aye, and I'll oblige as long as I've strength in my arms.”  
   With her hands full, she couldn't cuff him as she'd like to, so she elbowed her son. “You do love her, don't you?”  
   His eyes briefly left his wife to meet his mother's knowing ones. “Aw, Ma, how can I not?” His amber gaze returned to his lady love.  “Even if it kills me…”  
   They trailed the winged Elder all the way to a building that looked important. All of the houses until now had been made of stone. This one appeared to be made of marble. It wasn't much larger than other homes, but more care was taken with its construction.  
   Surely, this was where their Elder lived.  
   Ealishe landed and wiped nervous palms on her trousers. They were elaborately embroidered, wide-legged court trousers, but suddenly, she wished she'd worn a dress. Flying in a dress wasn't a good idea, but she wanted to make a good impression. At least she had the ostentatious crystal ring.  
   She knocked on the door, and waited. Gromm pointed to the metal doorknocker, so when no one answered the door, she tried that.  
   They waited for several minutes. Just when Ealishe was ready to go back to the wharf, the door creaked open. She swung back around, braids clacking against her wings.  
   “Oh good, we were starting to think nobody… was… home…” she trailed to a stop. The ancient, droopy-winged creature wasn't what she was expecting to see, but they weren't called Elders for nothing.  
   “Ah, come in, My Lady. We've been expecting you.  _Zesu’s_  messenger arrived some time ago, but the poor dear exhausted herself getting to us.”  
   The elder Elder led the younger to a large, well-lit room. It was just shy of being painful to her unaccustomed onyx eyes.  
   In the room were four middle-aged people in matching uniforms. They wore blank tabards over their clothes.  
   They also had matching sets of wings.  
   “I'm sorry, I don't think I understand. How many Elders are there down here?”  
   The old man, whose name she would learn was Karsk, blinked owlishly at her. “Just one, My Lady.”  
   Her brow ridge puckered. “But then… why do all of you have wings..?”  
   The quartet tittered nervously.  
   “I'm afraid it is I who do not understand, milady. All  _kuren_  past their three hundredth birthday have wings. Except, of course, you, My Lady Elder.”  
   “Oh,” she said faintly. “Well, that explains it.”  
   When she didn't enlighten the puzzled servants, as they turned out to be, Gromm told them of the three hundred year limit imposed within Kaia.  
   “Oh, that's  _horrible!”_  said the cook, who was four hundred years old.  
   “I can't imagine dying without flying,” said the rhyming governess.  
   “You said it,” chimed the housemaids.  
   “These are the staff, My Lady, unless you've got your own already picked out?”  
   She shook her head bemusedly, braids clacking softly. “My previous staff could not make the journey.”   
   The  _kuren_  sighed with relief as discreetly as possible.  
   After he introduced them, he led his new mistress to her suite of rooms. “I expect you'll want to freshen up. I hear it's a long trip, and water is scarce for baths.”  
   The younger maid, who was still older than the Elder's mother, drew a bath while Gromm stood uncertainly in the bedroom. His mother was led down the hall, after depositing her grandchildren in a small room just off the master bedroom.  
   But for the chatty maid, they were alone in a strange place. Their eyes locked for a moment, nervous and tense.  
   Bitta began removing things from the Elder in preparation for her bath. Ealishe dared him with her bold gaze to look away, but he didn't. He sat and watched a complete stranger undress his wife.  
   He paid particular attention when the loose pantaloons were stripped away. Maddeningly, she hid what he most desired to see.  
   She turned away, knowing full well what she did, and stepped down into the recessed bath. Her fully-fledged wings and nimble tail blocked his view.  
   The maid offered to wash her back, but Gromm sent her away. “I will see to my wife, thank you. How does she summon you if she has need?” he asked politely.  
   She pointed at a corded rope beside the bed. “Just give that a tug, and I'll be here in a jiff.”  
   He didn't know what a jiff was, but he thanked her again and closed the door. As he walked back to the bathroom, he shed his clothing like so many old scales. There wasn't much to remove, even in his formal wear.  
   “So, wife, shall I wash your back?”  
   She waded deeper into the luxurious spa. Chin horns resting precisely where his teeth marks were, she said “Please do.”  
   He sank into the warm water with a bone-deep sigh. He savored the moment for a bit before approaching her. He tried not to think about the only two hot baths he'd enjoyed in his life.  
   That was made easy when she turned, a handful of soapsand outstretched. She made no effort to cover her swollen breasts.  
   He took the sweet, slightly coarse powder from her, suppressing a groan. She turned her back, proudly flashing her battle scarred shoulder. He clenched his knees together under the water.  
   He massaged the abrasive soap into her tired, aching back. She leaned into his thick fingers with happy moans. He worked his way grimly down her spine, around her wings, squeezing his knees tighter with every sound she made.  
   When he reached her tail, he massaged her hips. She rotated with the motion, sending waves of bubbles up his chest. He thought of naked gnomes dancing on tables, knees firmly wedged together.  
   He eased his hands down the front of her pelvis, but she bobbed away from him. “Tsk, tsk, I've got to rinse off.”   
   He crossed his arms and waited. She sank down as far as she could, but she'd gone to the other side of the recessed tub. It was shallower on the edges. She leaned back, as he knew she'd have to.  
   He pulled her knees forward, until the prize he sought was within reach. He would know whether he had reason to fear. But he had to let go of one leg to check.  
   That leg snaked around his waist and reeled him in. She held him too close to her body to count openings. Since he held her other knee, not her leg, she was able to pull him where she wanted.  
   “Not again,” he begged.  
   “I've never done it in a bath before, have you?” Her arms rested on the step behind her, thrusting her bosom out saucily.  
   His eyes pleaded with her, candlelight flickering behind their irises. She smiled wickedly, a warm cherry glow in her eye.  
   She knew she was not with child, but  _he_  didn't. She knew that if he did, he would leave her unfulfilled. She'd heard a rumor that you couldn't get pregnant while breastfeeding, and  _both_  of them did it! She debated telling him, but it would ruin the fun of making him suffer. She toyed with him, brushing her pelvis over his distended member too lightly to count anything.  
   When the brawny hips followed hers of their own accord, she knew she had him where she wanted him. Her heels dug into his backside, knees flexed. She impaled herself slowly, repeatedly, watching his face while she did it. She knew a sense of power that no throne or ring could give her.  
   She held this huge man captive with nothing more than a twitch of a leg. Her body could move him as nothing else could. This steady, dependable rock crumbled to dust between her thighs, and it was heady. She wasn't ready to give it up because of his misplaced sense of honor.  
   A growl clawed its way out of his throat, and his eyes ignited. You could only push an orc so far, Oracle or not. He hauled her into the deeper part of the spa so fast that her arms flailed, trying to keep her head above water.  
   He crushed her to his chest, smashed his mouth over hers. For one heart-stopping moment, he was the very thing he fought. All it took was a whimper from her, however, for his lips to soften. He cupped the back of her head, and just beneath her tail.  
   What began as a challenge became a union of two desperate people, adrift in a sea of change. Her arms circled his neck, while her tail twined with his. Kneeling in the deepest section as he was, the suction from the water drove them over the brink. They shuddered together, too shocked to cry out. Instead of burying their teeth in flesh, their heads were thrown back, sending twin beams of scarlet and sunlight to the ceiling.  
   They trembled and clung to each other, sated and pleasantly surprised. The experience was unforgettable; so much so that they wound up repeating it.  
   They might have been in the bath all night, if their children hadn't demanded to be fed.


	66. Oban'Dal

The residents of  _Oban’dal_  were excited to meet the new arrivals. The travelers were, by and large, equally happy to meet winged  _kuren_  that they felt comfortable approaching. The Elder remained untouchable, in their eyes.  
   Gnomes were treated like children at first, which was briefly amusing, but they quickly disabused the sheltered  _kuren_  of that notion. They brought their inventions with them from Kaia’s slowly decaying body. The inventions delighted the winged  _kuren,_  who'd rarely been to the surface. The only place they'd ever gone was the Seven Star Archipelago, which was solely inhabited by human psions and  _Dyahr._  Gnomes, dwarves (Deep or otherwise), Deep Elves, trolls, catkin, fungal ents, and fey were unheard-of.  
   Both dwarf races settled easily into the underwater utopia easily, eventually becoming one people. The few Deep Dwarves who'd been caught inside the fleeing Great Tantalus were considered exotic to their subterranean cousins, and garnered great favor.  
   The trolls needn't have feared the reaction of the isolated  _kuren._  Their taciturn nature and strict morals appealed to the free-spirited shut-ins. It provided a balance to their sometimes puckish disposition. Some of the more adventurous  _kuren_  even bred with them, claiming that troll blood made for strong offspring.  
   The fungal ents revived the wilting gardens with their unique talents, which earned their eternal gratitude. They didn't speak much, and no one knew how they reproduced, so their species alone remained pure.  
   The few catkin who'd made the journey survived, for they were the sturdier tiger, leopard, and lion variants. If they regretted their choice, they never said so. They mostly kept to themselves, with a few close friends or mates.  
   The Deep Elves settled into the relatively bright city perhaps easiest of all. They were skilled in all things subterranean, as the dwarves were, but they were more diplomatic than the blunt mountainfolk.  
   Raslir was busier than ever, recording all of the cross-species breeding in addition to his own family lineage. He had to take on several assistants just to keep up.  
   As for Ealishe, she slipped into the role of the Elder of  _Oban’dal_  easily. Whenever she got overwhelmed by all of the new things and people, Gromm was ever by her side.  
   Another Council was set up, at the Elder’s insistence. She could no longer walk the city in disguise, being the only young  _kuren_  with wings, and she felt the distance between herself and her people. She flew over the city daily, with her personal launchpad in tow.   
    Much to their surprise, he began sprouting wings shortly after their arrival.  _Zesu_  would not take credit for it, but they suspected it was a rare gift for his service. Once he was fully fledged, he joined his wife in the sky. It was a spectacular sight. He would land next to her when she lost too much altitude, hurl her skyward, and spring onto the nearest building for his own takeoff.  
   Girls swooned over him, not that he noticed. His powerful legs flexed, making the leap look effortless. His massive arms flung Ealishe into the air with no sign of strain.  
   The signature sleeveless jerkin came to be a brief fashion trend, but it made  _kuren_  males look even smaller than their former tunics. They tried padded shoulders, but the girls just laughed. No one could compare to the half-orc, so they stopped trying.  
   The Elder did all she could to endear herself to her people. She and her Consort, being the youngest winged  _kuren,_  helped the older ones repair things they could no longer reach. She hosted gatherings once each month, making sure to invite different people each time.   
   To be fair, she began with those closest to the wharf (once everyone was settled into their new homes) and worked her way back. Only when everyone had been invited into her home did she issue open invitations. Everyone knew when she was receiving guests, and everyone was welcome, space permitting.  
   It became so popular that they had to use the Gathering Grounds for these monthly parties. People were free to speak with her as she circulated through the crowd, the ever-present Gromm by her side.  
   It was a favorite request, once they moved to the outdoor space, to see their aerial acrobatics. At first, he simply tossed her in the air. His adventurous wife was not content with that for long, of course. She began experimenting with loops and twirls, without telling her husband. He shouldn’t have been surprised by his little she-orc, but she continued to amuse and amaze him for centuries.  
   She bore him many children, against his wishes. As she'd said, she had an Elder God (whose sister occasionally dropped in) and a High Monk at her side. After every birth, he swore never to touch her again, despite the lack of complications thereafter. She always managed to pursuade him otherwise.  
   Three children were born without incident, having inherited her smooth, backward-curving horns. The fifth and sixth children caused minor concern, but they were twins, so their horns were too small to do as much damage as their big sister's had.  
   By the time their tenth child was born, her mother's body was inured to her tiny, smooth-spiraled horns. She was unique, in that she'd gotten aspects of both parents. Her big brothers, and the eldest girl, had rough spirals like their father.  
   They named her Vayla.


	67. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you thought you were done with the tissues... Sorry...

Vaylah the human child spent several days with the strange, tall people. She liked being with them, but as she put it, "You don't expect me to  _stay_  down here, do you?  I've got kid stuff to do!"  
   "I'm afraid to ask," Meron said. He'd seen some of the things she'd gotten into, often with his daughter.  
    _"I'm_  not! What kind of terror are you planning now?" Rill Shissar loved watching her antics, which had given the pixie a few new ideas.  
   "Heeheehee, I'LL NEVER TELL," she chuckled merrily.  
   The adults exchanged Looks, very glad that they didn't live Above!  
   She turned to  _Zesu._  “I can't make people forget the day a big turtle with crystals on its shell popped up, but I can make it so fantastic that nobody believes it after a while.”  
    _Zesu_  granted her one of his rare hugs in parting.  
   She went to the surface that day, without the aid of a tanto, and told stories of the people under the sea. She insisted that she be called Obandal, from then on.  
   “Why?” they would ask.  
   “Because that's where I went.”  
   Gradually, the people who'd seen the Great Tantalus died off. So did the passengers who'd arrived inside of it, though she saw their descendants from time to time.  
   After a while, she stopped telling people how she got her name. No one believed she'd gone to the ocean floor. They thought it a game when she was little. When she was an old woman, they passed it off as the exaggeration that the elderly were prone to.  
   When the end of her life drew nigh, she decided that she didn't want people wailing over a grave. She simply stepped into the ocean, and sank.  
  She drifted down toward her happy place, where tall, scaly people called her a hero. She kept herself alive until she touched the bottom, though it used all of her power to do so. She didn't relish seeing their big-eyed faces when they saw how old she'd become, but she wanted to see that gleaming city one last time.  
    _Zesu_  saw her drift down with the currents. He guided her to  _Oban’dal,_  when it was too dark to see the way. They'd erected a small statue on the wharf, in her honor. He thought that might be where she would want to go. She wouldn't make it much further, anyway. He made no fanfare when He came ashore with His cargo, protesting even now that she didn't need to be carried.   
   He needn't announce the savior of  _Oban’dal._  One of the Darkwater Clan saw them rise from the waters of the wharf, and ran to tell his mother. She in turn told her mother, who darted the rest of the way to her mother, the Elder.  
   Ealishe flew into the air, launched by her faithful husband. He was still strong enough to leap out over the rooftops on his own, so he landed beside  _Zesu_  shortly after her.  
   “Vaylah?” the Elder asked hesitantly.  
   “No one's called me that in decades,” she chuckled weakly. “Who else d’you know that can visit the bottom of the ocean?” Her voice was old and creaky, but every bit as spirited as they remembered.  
   “You've aged,” a new voice said bluntly.  
   Vaylah looked at the pretty blue girl without recognition.  
   “Lili, we've talked about this,”  _Zesu_  chided.  
   “You've grown up. None of you have grown old, though.” She looked around her at the familiar faces. Not a single one bore the ravages of a century apart.  
   Lili looked down at her tightly-clasped hands. “Papa did.”  
   Many hands reached to console her, including Vaylah’s.  
   Ealishe nudged a shy girl forward in the sad silence. “It is good that you came. We named one of our children after you.”  
   The lovely, silvery violet girl with brown eyes took one wrinkled hand and briefly clasped it in a light embrace.  
   Lili ignored Vayla entirely. She met Vaylah’s wizened eyes bitterly. “You've come here to die too, haven't you? Papa lived seventy years down here, but in the end, you humans just die.” She spun and ran away, tears streaming from her bright violet eyes.  
   “I'm sorry,” Gromm started to say.  
   Vaylah, also called Obandal, waved his concern away. “I'm too old, and too tired to take offense. You live long enough, you see your friends and loved ones die. Now, I'm going to join them. I'll be sure to tell Meron Lili says hi. I'm just happy I got to see you all… one last… time…”   
   Her head fell back, silver eyes staring raptly skyward. With one long sigh, the breath left her frail body. Sobs washed over her lifeless body, cradled so gently by the Elder God.  
   As the darkness wrapped her in its ermine embrace, her last thought was the hope that Riven and Ruh would visit the turtle people.  
    _Zesu_  flicked His fingers, and a deep, oblong hole appeared before her little statue. He lay her cold body in it carefully, respectfully.   
   The  _kuren_  and their kin said nothing, for they hadn't really known the sprite who saved an entire civilization. They simply watched as the Protector of  _Oban’dal_  buried its savior.  
   Though she'd never met her namesake, Vayla cried the longest.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Artist/author fan page ](https://www.facebook.com/groups/752900498252678/)


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